September 5 and Saturday Night: Two Reviews for the Price of One!!

**THIS REVIEW IS SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS**

September 5: 4 out of 5 stars – SEE IT.

Saturday Night: 1.5 out of 5 stars – SKIP IT.

Last year two films came out that dealt with the behind-the-scenes drama of major events in television history, and I think it useful to review them both together…a two for one if you will.

September 5 dramatized ABC’s coverage of the kidnapping and killing of the Israeli Olympic team at the 1972 Munich Olympics, and Saturday Night chronicles the drama surrounding the premiere of Saturday Night Live in 1975.

Contrasting and comparing these films is useful because they both highlight the possibilities and the pitfalls of this very specific genre – the tv movie, or more accurately – the movie about tv.

Let’s start with September 5, which is directed by Tim Fehlbaum and written by Fehlbaum and Moritz Binder. The film was released on December 13th, 2024 and is currently streaming on Paramount+. It stars Peter Sarsgaard, as Roone Arledge – president of ABC Sports, Ben Chaplin as Marvin Bader – head of operations at ABC Sports, and John Magaro as Geoffrey Mason – head of ABC control room in Munich.

September 5 is an extraordinarily effective and affecting movie that is able to build and maintain dramatic tension, and believability, despite audiences already knowing how the story ends.

Director Fehlbaum, along with cinematographer Markus Forderer, are able to create a vivid reality in the claustrophobic confines of the ABC Sports control room in Munich as globe changing events are taking place a mere hundred yards or so from their location.

Fehlbaum never gives in to the temptation to break from the control room perspective and give a glimpse into the hostage situation or elsewhere. Everything we as viewers see is what Arledge, Bader and Magaro are seeing in the control room.

Fehlbaum also makes a very wise choice in his direction of actors, namely he keeps the performance style minimalist – there are no big dramatic speeches, no emoting, just realism of regular people doing their important jobs under extreme pressure….pros being pros. This approach makes it feel like you’re watching things actually unfold and not a movie, which heightens the drama and the emotional impact of the tragic events ABC is covering.

Another key to the film’s success is Hans Weibrich’s editing, which is subtle but tight, and keeps the film at a compelling pace and a captivating run time of 93 minutes.

September 5 is a real gem of a film – masterfully crafted and directed towards adults, the type so rarely made nowadays, and I highly recommend it…so much so that I think you should subscribe or get a free week to Paramount + just to watch it.

The drama covered in September 5 of ABC’s coverage of the massacre of the 1972 Israeli Olympic team is important because the decisions made in that control room still resonate in our culture today. For example, the decision to use the word “terrorist” to describe the Black September militant group who committed to kidnapping and killing – as opposed to say “commando” or “militant” or the just as loaded “freedom fighter”. This choice set up the paradigm under which the Middle East in general, and Israel in particular, would be covered by the media for the next fifty plus years, and continues to this day.

Which brings us to another television event that still resonates fifty years later, and that is the birth of Saturday Night Live, which is dramatized in Jason Reitman’s film Saturday Night.

Saturday Night hit theatres on September 27, 2024, and is now available to stream on Netflix. The film, which is directed and co-written by Jason Reitman, tells the tale of the wild and whacky events surrounding Saturday Night Live’s premiere on October 11, 1975.

The film follows Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) as he scrambles to put out a multitude of fires – which include out of control creative egos, corporate pressure and union resistance, not to mention the culture clash between old school television people and the young rebels Michaels has gathered for his SNL team.

There are lots of very familiar faces here…like Chevy Chase, John Belushi, Dan Akroyd, Gilda Radner, Laraine Newman, Garrett Morris, Jane Curtin, Andy Kaufman, Billy Crystal, Jim Henson, George Carlin and Billy Preston. For the most part, the actors playing these icons are, not surprisingly, less than a shadow of the stars they are portraying.

The one exception is Cory Michael Smith, who is quite good as Chevy Chase. Others, like Matt Wood as John Belushi, and Nicholas Braun as both Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson, are brutally bad.

Gabriel LaBelle, who plays Lorne Michael and who previously played Steven Spielberg in The Fabelmans – quite the power players, is much too young for his role here and lacks the charisma and charm to carry this movie for its bloated 109-minute run time.

Another problem with Saturday Night is that it tries to build tension through music and pacing, but it all falls very flat. It has no life to it, no energy, just a bunch of watered-down Aaron Sorkin-esque walk and talks that are a tsunami of sound and fury signifying nothing.

The actions of the characters in the film run counter to the drama building because none of them seem particularly frantic about going live in less than an hour. The most moronic of sequences involves Lorne Michaels leaving the studio with like ten minutes to go before airtime and walking to the skating rink at 30 Rock, where he has a talk with Gilda Radner and John Belushi. What makes this scene even dumber is that mere moments before Michaels gets there, Gilda Radner gives a melancholy speech to Belushi about how she feels like she’s in the future looking back at this momentous occasion…which of course is supposed to be moving since both Radner and Belushi died much too young…but it just feels contrived and manipulative and takes you out of the story even more than everything else.

Another gigantic issue with the film is that Reitner decides to make a pseudo-comedy about very funny people…which if you’ve ever spent even a millisecond with a comedian you’d know they are the most miserable and existentially burdened humans on the planet. Comedians are funny when they perform, and diabolically dramatic and depressed when they don’t…and Reitman never captures the suffocating gravity of that truth.

Instead, the Saturday Night just flits and flirts from one flaccid bit to another where something supposedly momentous occurs and then something else and then there’s this other thing and then the show starts and everything works out. Yawn.

I am sure it is no coincidence that this film came out the same year that SNL had its 50th anniversary, but the movie fails in every respect to make anyone care about that first show, or to elucidate why it mattered and still does today.

Saturday Night is exactly what you shouldn’t do when making a movie about the behind the scenes of a television event, and September 5 is exactly what you should when making a movie about the behind the scenes of a television event. Where September 5 is precise, meticulous, and contained, Saturday Night is vague, frivolous and dramatically scattered.

I watched the two films on back-to-back nights and it made me really appreciate the craftsmanship and artistry Tim Fehlbaum put into September 5, and the lack of detail and skill of Jason Reitman gave to Saturday Night.

The bottom line is this…September 5 is one of the best films of last year and you should definitely check it out…and Saturday Night is instantly forgettable and not worth a moment of your time.

©2025

CHAOS: The Manson Murders - A Documentary Review: Errol Morris' and Netflix's Anti-Conspiracy Agenda

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

MY Recommendation: SKIP IT. Errol Morris makes a mess of his look into the Manson murders by never daring to search for truth. An intellectually incurious and vapid film that commits journalistic malpractice.

CHAOS: The Manson Murders is a new Netflix documentary from acclaimed documentarian Errol Morris based on Tom O’Neill’s expansive book CHAOS: Charles Manson, the CIA, and the Secret History of the Sixties.

Tom O’Neill was a magazine reporter given an assignment in 1999 to do write up on how the infamous Manson murders of 1969 changed Hollywood. O’Neill dove into the story so deeply that he was neck-deep in all things Manson for twenty years, and finally published his findings in 2019 in his epic Tome CHOAS: Charles Manson, the CIA, and the Secret History the Sixties.

What O’Neill uncovered in his investigation is much too extensive and expansive to flesh out here, and most definitely too expansive to be given its proper due in a documentary that runs a measly 90 minutes, which CHAOS: The Manson Murders does.

Errol Morris is one of the more respected documentarians of our time but he is shockingly off his game and way out of his depth on CHAOS: The Manson Murders, which feels like a cheap and tawdry episode of Dateline rather than a serious documentary.

This flimsy and foolish documentary is so vapid and vacuous as to be guilty of documentary malpractice. The documentary ignores the majority of O’Neill’s work, obfuscates much of the truth he revealed, and instead of diving deeper or at least adequately stating O’Neill’s thesis and argument, it spends it’s time rehashing frivolities and pondering inane questions like “why are people so interested in these murders?”

For example, one of the many things O’Neill proves in his book is the corruption and moral and ethical bankruptcy of famed Manson prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi – who also wrote the famous book on the case Helter Skelter. Morris doesn’t even mention Bugliosi until the final twenty minutes of his documentary, and never gets into any of the scandals that O’Neill uncovered and experienced first-hand in his reporting.

The biggest bombshell O’Neill uncovered in his book is the connection between Charles Manson and villainous government psychiatrist, Jolly West. Jolly West, for those who do not know, was a psychiatrist for the CIA who headed up MKULTRA, the CIA’s mind-control program. West seems to have been connected to many curious and nefarious events throughout his time as a CIA psychiatrist.

For example, when Jack Ruby was sitting in a Dallas prison cell waiting to be interviewed by the Warren Commission, he got a special visit from Jolly West, who spent the day with him and at the end of that day, lo and behold, Jack Ruby had lost his mind and West recommended he be institutionalized. How interesting.

Jolly West was in San Francisco working out of a free clinic in Haight-Ashbury during the “Summer of Love”, which also happened to coincide with the implementation of CIA’s CHAOS program - which was designed to co-opt and destroy the anti-war movement through the introduction of drugs and agent provocateurs. The FBI program COINTELPRO was designed to do the same thing and started at the same time.

Well, you’ll never guess who was in the Haight-Ashbury clinic of Jolly West once a week for a year during the late sixties…you guessed it…Charles Manson. Manson brought his girls in there for medical treatment and he himself met his parole officer in the same building. The same parole officer who, time after time, refused to have Manson’s parole revoked when he got arrested multiple times in San Francisco…and who even wrote letters urging judges not to imprison him. Curious.

Errol Morris shows little to no interest in the Jolly West intrigue, instead just shrugging his shoulders at the notion that the CIA was really up to no good with its MKULTRA program. Morris even says that ‘yes, the CIA wanted to do bad things, but it never succeeded’. Hmmm.

O’Neill then chimes in and corrects Morris by stating that there is documented proof (found in a document the CIA covered up for half as century) from Jolly West himself, who admitted in a CIA memo that he had mastered the ability to create a “Manchurian candidate” type of situation by implanting false memories in patients through hypnosis and various drugs. Morris replies to this information in shockingly flaccid fashion when he retorts, “well, Jolly West could be lying”.

This exchange perfectly encapsulates why Errol Morris is so out of his depth with this story. He is repulsed by “conspiracy theories” of any kind and prefers to embrace mundane explanations, even when the mundane explanation isn’t adequate and the “conspiracy theory” is well documented. This approach shows that Morris isn’t interested in truth but instead in his own respectability amongst the corporate media and “people who matter”.

Morris’ cowardice and journalistic impotence reminded me of a podcast I listened to a few years back about the RFK assassination titled The RFK Tapes. This podcast got a lot of traction at the time as the host of it did a deep dive into the conspiracy surrounding the RFK assassination. And just as the evidence had piled up to a tipping point in favor of conspiracy, the podcast host had a very abrupt change of heart and instead not only denounced the idea of a conspiracy surrounding the RFK assassination, he stopped investigating it at all. His reason for this change of heart (notice I say heart and not mind), was because, in essence, he felt bad people like Alex Jones believed in conspiracy theories and propagated them so he didn’t want to be a conspiracy theorist. So, in order to protect delicate sensibilities of the Sandy Hook families – which has no connection or correlation to the RFK assassination, this podcaster simply turns off his mind and turns his back on his research and his research partner.

This podcaster didn’t discover something that proved the conspiracy theory wrong, quite the opposite…but he did realize that he didn’t love the Truth more than he loves his reputation amongst the corporate media. This podcaster played it off as some sort of moral and ethical act of courage to do so…but it was an act of intellectual cowardice.

Errol Morris just did the same thing with the CIA’s connection with the Manson murders and Tom O’Neill’s expansive research. Morris has such an intense case of cognitive dissonance regarding O’Neill’s thesis he chooses to ignore the lion’s share of his research and expertise and instead elevates and gives the last word to Bobby Beausoliel, a member of Manson’s ‘family’ who was arrested for murder before the Tate-LaBianca murders occurred.

Beausoliel met Manson in Los Angeles about a year before the murders, and he was never in San Francisco with Manson and the family, and he has no first-hand experience about what happened regarding the Tate-LaBianca murders, as he had been on the run for ten days prior to the murders and arrested the day before they occurred. In other words, Beausoliel, who has been in prison since his arrest in 1969, is incapable of having a big picture view of Manson and who may or may not have “created” him and potentially “directed” him. But Morris still lets Beausoliel get the last word of the film by saying essentially, ‘people make too much about this stuff, the truth is simple…Occam’s Razor rules the day – Manson was just a bad dude out for revenge.’

Ultimately, Errol Morris is one of those intellectuals who can’t get out of his own way and is so crippled by his slavish devotion to institutionalism, establishment and his paymasters in the corporate media (like Netflix), that he is incapable of seeing what is right in front of his nose.

I know many people of a similar ilk, who are incredibly smart and successful but are incapable of thinking critically or of seeing what is obvious to those that have eyes to see and the courage to actually look.

Netflix has adamantly embraced the establishment’s anti-conspiracy position in its documentaries. Besides this Manson documentary there was The Octopus Murders documentary series which investigated the Danny Casolaro story and despite all of the evidence to the contrary, came to the conclusion that well there is no conspiracy because conspiracies are bad. Sigh.

I really, really wish CHAOS: The Manson Murders was good, or at least did an adequate job of presenting Tom O’Neill’s work, but it is really bad and it doesn’t do the least bit of justice to O’Neill’s work. This documentary is, quite frankly, an absolute travesty.

My recommendation for anyone, Manson aficionados or newbies alike, is to pick up O’Neill’s book CHAOS: Charles Manson, the CIA, and the Secret History of the Sixties, and read it.

The book isn’t perfect, in fact it can be downright frustrating because O’Neill refuses to speculate or project, but instead sticks to what he can prove. The book tells a fascinating tale and takes you down many tantalizing roads of inquiry but repeatedly comes up just short because the case is so old and cold and so many people associated with it are no longer alive.

But it is O’Neill’s journalistic restraint that gives the book credibility. This is not some wild-eyed exercise in wish fulfillment, this is a serious examination of one of the most curious cases in American juris prudence and cultural history, where the CIA, FBI, LAPD, LA County Sheriff’s Department, Bureau of Prisons, and the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office, all behaved in the most bizarre of ways in order to enable Manson before his arrest, and pervert a free and fair trial after it.

If you’re interested in the reality of the world that you inherited and currently inhabit…go read Tom O’Neill’s CHAOS: Charles Manson, the CIA, and the Secret History of the Sixties, and skip entirely Errol Morris’ mendacious, deceptive, and deceitful documentary CHAOS: The Manson Murders, for it is a total waste of time.

©2025

11th Annual Mickey©®™ Awards - 2024 Edition

11th ANNUAL MICKEY©®™ AWARDS

The ultimate awards show is upon us!!!

The Mickeys©™® are superior to every other award imaginable…be it the Oscar, the Emmy, the Tony, the Grammy or even the Nobel. The Mickey©®™ is the mountaintop of not just artistic but human achievement, which is why they always take place AFTER the Oscars!

This year has been a rather sub-par one for cinema but there are still a multitude of films eligible for a Mickey©™® award.

Actors, actresses, writers, cinematographers and directors are all sweating and squirming right now in anticipation of the Mickey©™® nominations and winners. Remember, even a coveted Mickey©™® nomination is a career and life changing event. 

Before we get to what everyone is here for…a quick rundown of the rules and regulations of The Mickeys©™®…The Mickeys©™® are selected by me…I am judge, jury and executioner. The only films eligible are films I have actually seen, be it in the theatre, via screener, cable, streamer or VOD. I do not see every film because as we all know, the overwhelming majority of films are God-awful, and I am a working man so I must be pretty selective. So that means that just getting me to actually watch your movie is a tremendous accomplishment in and of itself…never mind being nominated or winning!

Enough with the formalities…let's start the festivities!!

Is everybody in? Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin...

Ladies and gentlemen…welcome to the 11th annual Mickey©™® Awards!!!

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY

Jarin Blaschke – Nosferatu: Blaschke beautifully photographs this film and gives it a desaturated look with a stunning contrast between light and shadow and magnificent framing. A true cinematic master work that is glorious for cinephiles to behold.

Lol Crawley - The Brutalist: In many ways this is a minimalist piece of cinematography which does a lot with a little, and always in service to the story. From the opening tracking sequence on the boat to the insightful slow pan in the granite quarry, Crawley shows he can tell a story with visuals alone, and do it with aplomb.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…JARIN BLASCHKE – NOSFERATU: An exquisitely shot film that goes to the top of the vampire cinematic catalogue.

BEST EDITING

Sean Baker – Anora: Sean Baker wrote, directed, produced and edited Anora and he did all of those jobs exceedingly well. The editing on this film is pretty miraculous as it keeps the proper pace and tone throughout and never fails to make every scene crackle with dramatic energy.

Hansjorg Weibrich - September 5: This movie could’ve felt dull and claustrophobic but thanks to Weibrich it is perfectly paced and wondrously put together and squeezes every ounce of drama out of its story and setting.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…HANSJORG WEIBRICH - SEPTEMBER 5: In lesser cinematic hands, this movie is entirely forgettable but Weibrich’s edit turns this into a tight and taut dramatic thriller.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Bill Skarsgard – Nosferatu: Do what you’re good at…and Skarsgard is good at being creepy, and he turns the creep up to 11 as a horny vampire in Nosferatu. An original and truly horrifying take on the age-old vampire character.

Jesse Plemons – Kinds of Kindness/Civil War: Plemons is nominated for two performances…the first for his scene stealing work in Civil War as a “real American”, which was a stunning piece of acting, and for his performances in the anthology film Kinds of Kindness. Both films highlight Plemons’ impressive versatility and subdued volatility. Plemons is one of the best actors working today.

Yuri Barosov – Anora: From the get go Yuri Barosov jumps off the screen in Anora and commands audience attention. His performance is quiet and subtle yet shows a level of charisma that is startling. One hopes he gets a ton more work from now on.

Karren Karagulian – Anora: Karagulian is fantastic as the handler who must try and control and contain a wild Russian rich kid in Anora. Karagulian’s energy, intensity, subtlety, comedic timing and commitment are crucial to the success of Anora, and shows him to be a very skilled and talented actor.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…KARREN KARAGULIAN – ANORA: Karagulian’s funny and ferocious performance in Anora is the hidden lynchpin to the entire movie…and now he has a Mickey©®™ for his efforts!!

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Margaret Qualley – The Substance: Qualley is an outstanding actress and she dives in headfirst into her role as the “ingenue” in The Substance. She lights up the screen with a dastardly, doe-eyed and sometimes demonic presence that is beguiling.

Monica Barbaro – A Complete Unknown: Who the hell is Monica Barbaro and where has she been hiding? Barbaro nearly steals the entire movie from under Bob Dylan’s prominent nose despite the fact that her character is criminally underwritten. A commanding and compelling performance all the way around.

Lady Gaga – Joker: Folie a Deux - I am not a fan of Lady Gaga…but I have to admit that she really is terrific in Joker: Folie a Deux, as she fits right in with the vibe of the film and gives it an allure and edge that is mesmerizing.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…MARGARET QUALLEY – THE SUBSTANCE: Qualley brings a life and tempestuousness to The Substance that invigorates the film and elevates the material…and now she has a Mickey©®™!!

THE GENRE CATEGORIES MICKEY©®™ WINNERS ARE…

BEST HORROR FILM

Nosferatu – Everybody knows the Nosferatu/Dracula story…and yet Robert Eggers films his version so exquisitely, and his cast deliver such glorious performances, that this movie becomes an instant classic.

BEST ACTION FILM

Furiosa – The chase scenes in this movie are, not surprisingly considering George Miller is at the helm, astonishing. Visually vibrant, this movie contains some of the best and most breathtaking stunt sequences in years.

BEST COMEDY FILM

Anora – This is technically a dark dramedy but it still qualifies for me as a comedy. This movie is wickedly funny, powerfully poignant, and painfully insightful.

BEST ANIMATED FILM

Flow – The animation in Flow isn’t the best you’ll ever see but the depth and magnitude of the story are as profound as you’ll find.

BEST ACTOR

Joaquin Phoenix – Joker: Folie a Deux - Once again Phoenix disappears into Arthur Fleck and his alter ego Joker and gives a twisted and terrific performance as the most hated person and character in the world. Phoenix is still the best and boldest actor in the world.

Colman Domingo - Sing Sing: Domingo is absolutely astonishing as a dramatically driven prison inmate. This performance is both combustible and contained and is a gift to the art of acting. I had no idea Domingo could be this good…but he is…he really is.

Ralph Fiennes – Conclave: Fiennes, as always, gives a meticulous and mesmerizing performance as a Cardinal navigating Vatican intrigue. A joy to watch this master craftsman at work.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…COLMAN DOMINGO – SING SING: Domingo’s exquisite performance in this movie is so intimate and intricate it is difficult to adequately describe. It is such a poignant, profound and powerful piece of acting work that it has elevated Colman Domingo to the absolute heights of artistic achievement with a Mickey©®™ award!!

BEST ACTRESS

Mikey Madison – Anora: Madison so thoroughly embodied a certain New York archetype that it felt like I was watching a home movie. A daring yet subtle performance that showed Madison has some serious chops when given the right material and direction.

Demi Moore – The Substance: I’ve never really thought much of Demi Moore as an actress, but in The Substance, she gives a phenomenal performance that speaks to the reality of the actress’ experience in the shithole that is Hollywood.

Emma Stone – Kinds of Kindness: Emma Stone’s overlooked performance in the arthouse anthology Kinds of Kindness is funny, intense and disturbing, and reveals an artistic depth uncommon in today’s cinema.

Lily Rose Depp - Nosferatu: Depp has been much maligned in her career, but she went balls to the wall as the love interest of a vampire in Nosferatu. Depp gives as committed and courageous a performance imaginable in a role that in lesser hands would have been ridiculous to the point of disaster.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…LILY ROSE DEPP – NOSFERATU: Depp’s performance is such a tour de force it elicited giggles from moviegoers uncomfortable with such levels of commitment…that is an indictment of our imbecilic audiences and an endorsement of Depp’s artistic integrity and commitment. No one is laughing now that Lily Rose Depp has a Mickey©®™!!

BEST ENSEMBLE

Nosferatu: Lily Rose Depp, Nicholas Hoult, Aaron Taylor Johnson, Emma Corrin, Willemn Dafoe and of course Bill Skarsgard, give fantastic performances in this gothic drama.

Anora: Mikey Madison, M<ark Eydelshteyn, Yura Borisov and Karren Karagulian are all so good in this movie that it boggles the mind. A terrific ensemble with absolutely zero weak links.

Kinds of Kindness: Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Willem Dafoe and Margaret Qualley crush their roles in this crazy anthology film that features acting brilliance across the board.

The Substance: Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley and Dennis Quad chew scenery and bring this movie to life with aplomb. All three give very brave and courageous performances for different reasons.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…ANORA: Top to bottom this cast just doesn’t miss. A truly remarkable collective performance.

BEST DIRECTOR

Sean Baker – Anora: Baker brought a unique and original vibrancy, humor and drama to this twisted, modern-day screwball dramedy that made it deliriously compelling and captivating.

Robert Eggers - Nosferatu: Eggers is an exquisite filmmaker obsessed with detail, and his attention to cinematic detail is what makes Nosferatu so absorbing despite the fact that we all know the story.

Brady Corbet – The Brutalist: Corbet’s ambition and audacity are off the charts and he is reaching for the stars with The Brutalist…and he almost gets there.

Todd Phillips – Joker: Folie a Deux: I know, I know, I know, everybody hated this movie but me…but Todd Phillips gave a big budget middle finger to his critics and supporters alike with Joker 2, and he did it by making the most insane arthouse franchise film in history…and for that he gets a much-deserved Mickey©®™ nomination. Hey everybody…look at the big balls on Todd.

Tim Fehlbaum - September 5: Fehlbaum takes a story we already know in a contained setting and through sheer skill and talent fills it with exquisite drama. A truly remarkable achievement by Fehlbaum to avoid all the traps laid out before him and to make this film work as well as it did.

And the Mickey©®™ goes to…ROBERT EGGERS – NOSFERATU: Eggers is such a singular talent that he turned an age old story into a cinematically breathtaking, and darkly heartbreaking, blockbuster. Eggers is well-respected as a craftsman, and now he has the ultimate in prestige and respect in the form of The Mickey©®™ award!!

 BEST PITCURE

10. Furiosa – George Miller’s wild ride is bumpy at times but has a visual brilliance to it that can be breathtaking.

9. The Substance – This movie is as insightful about the female experience in Hollywood as any you’ll see. It loses its way in the third act but the first two acts are riveting.

8. Late Night with the Devil – This overlooked gem of a horror film is really original and very effective in conveying its creepiness and its relevant ideology.

7. The Brutalist – The Brutalist is ambitious and audacious, but unfortunately never quite lives up to its spectacular first half.

6. Kinds of Kindness – Yorgos Lanthimos is an acquired taste…and I’ve acquired it. This wild and weird anthology that always leaves you guessing is shockingly compelling from start to finish, and features some spectacular performances.

5. Sing Sing – This prison drama perfectly manages its mostly amateur cast and the underlying menace of life behind bars. A deeply moving and vibrant film that stays with you.

4. September 5 – Impeccably directed film that maximizes the drama without ever crossing over into melodrama. An undiscovered gem of a film.

3. Joker: Folie a Deux – This movie is a punchline…but the jokes is on all of us as director Todd Phillips once again is ahead of the curve in regards to the collective unconscious. Magnificent and malicious movie madness.

2. Nosferatu – A glorious exercise in cinematic mastery combined with electric performances makes Nosferatu a must watch.

And the Mickey©®™ for BEST PICTURE goes to…ANORA: Nosferatu won Best Director and Best Actress, but Anora comes from behind for the Mickey©®™ victory. Funny, insightful and frankly profound, Anora grabs you by the balls and never lets go…even after it ends. A masterful piece of moviemaking by Sean Baker and a fantastic cast, make Anora this year’s Mickey©®™ winner~!!

MOST IMPORTANT FILM OF THE YEAR

JOKER: FOLIE A DEUX and ANORA:

These two films, one much maligned (Joker) and the other much celebrated (Anora - Oscar and Mickey©®™ winner) are seemingly much too different to have anything in common.

One deals with a psychopathic comic book character singing show tunes as his demonic alter-ego, and the other with a strong-willed stripper striving for financial success.

But there is one thing that binds them both…namely that both films take place in worlds completely devoid of love.

Joker’s Gotham City and Anora’s New York are hellscapes because it is impossible for love to exist there, or for the inhabitants there to truly contemplate love and its absence. They aren’t sure what is missing but they know something huge and vital is…and its absence is destroying them….they try and fill it with money, sex, power…but nothing fills the void.

The reason these films are so important is because they reflect a growing darkness in our own world…where love in its many forms is being suffocated by a soulless culture hellbent on destroying love, beauty and truth.

It would be easy to think that love in the world of Anora is transactional…except it isn’t transactional, it is non-existent. Love is not the thing being bought and sold in Anora…power is…and dignity too. Love has nothing to do with any of it.

Joker’s Gotham is so devoid of love that it is hostile to human life like a planet with no oxygen and extreme temperatures. Arthur Fleck is so starved for love that he wastes away in this loveless landscape…but Joker…the devil…the king of hatred, cruelty and viciousness, thrives in this loveless world.

Love is not something that most people think about in regards to the big ideas of the world or geopolitics and all the rest…but a lack of love tells us a lot about what’s happening and what will happen.

For instance, the distinct absence of any love, or the ability to love, in these movies speaks to the American Empire’s devolution into capitalistic self-destruction. At this stage of the American Empire’s collapse, love is often transactional, a commodity to bought or sold in order to gain money, power or both.

In our cancerous culture, where religion is corrupt, wealth is worshipped, government self-serving, and pornography and gambling mainstream, vices have are now virtues and beauty and truth sullied and maligned. In this state of existance, the spiral downward for the American Empire isn’t just inevitable, it is accelerating at break neck speed, for with love goes humanity, decency and dignity.

Anora, like many Americans, had to detach from her moral and ethical foundation (and her humanity, decency and dignity) given to her by tradition (in her case her Russian ancestry), in order to pursue money by selling her soul and body one piece at a time…intentionally ignoring the fact that neither of these are limitless resources.

Arthur Fleck is the delicate and damaged among us…he is a fish out of water in this hateful world…the love he needs to survive isn’t kept from him because he is repulsive, he can’t get it or give it because it is non-existent in the world. He gasps and flounders about desperate for the life sustaining substance to fill his gills…but it’s not there for him…or anyone else…and its absence will undoubtedly kill him, sooner rather than later.

We are all either Anora or Arthur Fleck, and the evil ruling elite of oligarchs and aristocrats that lord over us don’t just not care about us, they actively hate us and want to exploit us and see us suffer. If you doubt this simply open eyes and look around at our country…homelessness, drug addiction, suicide, violent crime, broken homes and families, children abused, unhealthy food, malignant pharma, casino banks, justice-free justice system…and all the rest.

We will, if we haven’t already, like Anora and Arthur, be forced to degrade and demean ourselves at the altar of the ruling elites power and wealth, just to survive, or be crushed under the weight of the loveless world they force us to inhabit.

This is not a democrat or republican issue. This is not as conservative or liberal issue. This is an existential issue. And this issue isn’t just a fight for our literal survival, it is also a fight for our souls.

First, they crush your spirit, and then they suck out your soul. Arthur Fleck had his spirit crushed and then his soul taken by the darkness. Anora had her spirit crushed and sold most of her soul, but realized at the very last moment that she had one last chance at redemption and wholeness.

We are all either Arthur or Anora right now, and either the devil within us is going to take over or we’ll grasp on with all our might at the last vestiges of light in our dark world and save our souls from the malicious ghouls in charge who want to take them.

Don’t let them take them. Don’t let them win. Love one another. Use that love as a shield as you go to battle to destroy the ones who rule and despise you.

This is the only way.

On that oh-so-pleasant note…thus ends the 11th annual Mickey©®™ awards!!

Thanks for reading and all your support through the years…and stay tuned for the Slip-Me-A-Mickey©®™ awards coming soon!

©2025

Oscar's Round Up - The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

OSCARS ROUND UP

Well…that was tough.

At the 97th Academy Awards some good things happened…namely that Anora, a movie I like and respect, won a bevy of awards – most notably Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actress. And some bad things happened…like I had to sit through an abysmal Oscar telecast to see Anora win.

The Oscar telecast, as is its wont, ran an excruciating four hours and was chock full of lifeless musical numbers and impotent gags and jokes as it was hosted by feverishly flaccid unfunnyman Conan O’Brien.

The Oscars’ consistent futility through the years has earned it a well-deserved thrashing on the pop culture whipping post…and last night’s telecast was a target rich environment for those foolish enough to watch, but smart enough to discern the dearth of quality entertainment.

The Oscar telecast now only seems to exists for the sole purpose of being the target of much deserved ridicule from the viewing public. The highlight of my night watching was exchanging cutting barbs with friends over the inanity and banality of the entire enterprise.

Conan O’Brien is an acquired taste…and I can proudly declare that, just like herpes, syphilis and AIDS, I have never acquired it. Conan is, first and foremost, a writer…a bad writer but a writer nonetheless. He is not a performer. And it shows.

Conan’s go-to shtick is to be faux edgy and mix it with a narcissistic self-deprecation that reeks of arrogance. He relied heavily on that formula last night and it fell flat.

Conan’s opening gag, a play on the movie The Substance, where he crawls out of and back into Demi Moore’s body, was remarkable for how poorly constructed it was. The bit could have been funny as the premise was good, but Conan bungled it and prolonged it unnecessarily, thus defeating its purpose. As Shakespeare has taught us…”brevity is the soul of wit”, and I do declare - Conan O’Brien has no soul.

The comedy only got worse from there. The lowest point in terms of comedy was when Conan did a bit with Adam Sandler. The bit was a bad idea because it wasn’t funny, it was poorly executed and most of all…Conan and Adam Sandler are two of the most unfunny human beings to have ever been considered comedians. The two of them doing a bit together is like a black hole of humor…no laughs can escape the gargantuan sucking of it all.

Speaking of sucking…there was the Dune sandworm bit…which became a recurring bit. The less spoken about this the better.

The show also featured some of the worst musical performances in recent memory.

The show opened with Ariana Grande giving us as mediocre a rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” imaginable. This was followed by Cynthia Erivo, who I have been told is the greatest singer alive, belting out a decidedly pitchy rendition of “Home” from The Wiz and “Defying Gravity” from Wicked…both were exceedingly underwhelming.

Then there was the bizarre tribute to James Bond, which for some reason featured three songs, all of them sung so poorly it felt like some community audition show on cable access.

Some person named Lisa sang “Live and Let Die”, and did so very poorly. She was followed by a stunningly awful performance by Doja Cat of “Diamonds are Forever”. The highlight of Doja Cat’s performance was that she was singing notably off-key…you go girl!! And finally, someone named Raye sang an amateur version of “Skyfall” and it felt like a bad karaoke night had broken out at the Dolby theatre.

Then of course there was a tribute to Quincy Jones where Queen Latifah, who isn’t a singer but rather a rapper – and has the weak, tepid voice to prove it, attempted to sing “Ease on Down the Road” from The Wiz. The entire tribute, from Oprah and Whoopi Goldberg’s intro to Queen Latifah’s brutal belching out of the tune, were an embarrassment to the greatness that was Quincy Jones.

As for the awards…it was Anora’s night and writer/director/editor/producer Sean Baker won four awards himself and gave pleasant and heartfelt speeches each time at the podium. Others were less dignified.

Adrien Brody won his second Best Actor Oscar and automatically became the worst actor in history to have won two Best Actor Oscars.

Brody’s speech was rambling, self-serving and overlong…sort of like his acting career. That he was being cheered on and coached by his girlfriend Georgina Chapman…who has a real-eye for talent…she used to be married to Harvey Weinstein, says a lot about Brody, Hollywood and The Brutalist, and none of it good. It was also a nice touch that he called out “anti-Semitism” at the same Oscars where the Best Documentary winner No Other Land, about Israel’s apartheid and ethnic cleansing against Palestinians, can’t get distribution in the United States…just more proof that Hollywood, of all places, is “anti-Semitic”. What a fucking doofus. Yo Adrien, can’t wait to see you being awful in a second-rate movie or tv show in the near future!!

There were also a bevy of pronouncements about “first ever” status among winners. So, the guy who won Best Costume Design was the “first Black man” to ever win the award. Yawn. No one gives a shit or should give a shit.

In the pre-show red carpet coverage Julianne Hough gave a land acknowledgement about how the Oscars were taking place on the indigenous land of various tribes. These tribes, like all native tribes, have been fucked over a billion times by the federal, state, city and local governments here in the U.S.

That said, land acknowledgements irritate the shit out of me because they are solely designed to signal virtue, which is a repulsive form of moral preening and narcissism.

The bottom line on this issue is this…if it means so much to you quit making empty gestures like land acknowledgements and just give the fucking land back to the native tribes. And shut the fuck up.

As for the fashion…once again there were some major mistakes that stars made that always baffle me.

Little Timmy Chalamet dressed in an all-yellow suit that looked like it could have been made of denim and that made him look like he was a background dancer in a Big Bird stage show or Curious George’s handler. Timmy is 29 years old…but this outfit made him look like he was 12…not a good look Timmy.

Zoe Saldana, winner of Best Supporting Actress, wore an egregiously designed dress that made her look like a cheap lamp in a thrift shop. She’s a beautiful woman but goodness gracious she looked ridiculous.

There were a bevy of “performers”…like Doja Cat, who was dressed like a cat, and Miley Cyrus, who was dressed like a Belgian hooker on Halloween, who showed off their tattoos. I have to say visible tattoos on a woman look extraordinarily trashy. It also didn’t help that Miley shaved her eyebrows for some reason…and she doesn’t have the face for no eyebrows.

The biggest news about the Oscars, and what my readers have been dying to find out…is whether I won my Oscar pool for the 30th year in a row. The answer is…yes…of course I did. But to be fair I had a very bad night, going a paltry 16-23 in my picks.

The good news though is that the film I liked the most out of the nominees, Anora, won Best Pic, Best Director, best Editing and Best Actress.

Speaking of Best Actress, the biggest surprise of the night was Anora’s Mikey Madison beating odds-on favorite Demi Moore for the gold. I was shocked when it happened and happy for Mikey Madison, but it was impossible to not feel bad for Demi Moore, who, by all accounts, is a decent human being who has really fought hard to survive in this nasty, nasty business.

Oh…and one last thing…in an attempt to end on a positive note. I thought the funniest bit of the night was Ben Stiller giving out the Production Design Oscar on a set that failed to work in lifting him from below the stage, to stage level. It was a clever bit and was impeccably executed…kudos to Ben Stiller.

Too bad Conan O’Brien wasn’t as clever or funny as that bit.

Alright ladies and gents…that’s my Oscar round up. Stay tuned to this website in the coming days as the biggest awards show of all time…The Mickeys®©™ will be announced as will the Slip-Me-A-Mickey®©™ Awards!!!

So hydrate and buckle up everybody because the party has just begun!!

©2025

Emilia Perez: A Review - No es Bueno

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. Yikes. A very bad musical.

Emilia Perez, written and directed by Frenchman Jacques Audiard, is a Spanish-language musical that chronicles a Mexican drug kingpin’s transition from a man into a woman.

The film, which is France’s official Oscar submission, stars Karla Sofia Gascon as Emilia Perez/Juan Del Monte – the drug kingpin, Zoe Saldana as Rita Castro – his/her lawyer, and Selena Gomez as Jessi – Juan’s wife.

The movie has garnered a whopping 13 Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best International Feature, Best Actress (Gascon) and Best Supporting Actress (Saldana).

The premise for Emilia Perez - where a brutal Mexican drug cartel kingpin yearns to live as his true self and therefore uses his vast wealth and power to undergo a transition and become a woman, is an undeniably intriguing one. Unfortunately, writer/director Jacques Audiard fumbles this premise so egregiously that the film is not just bad, but an absolutely lifeless and rather ridiculous bore.

One of the biggest problems with Emilia Perez is that it is a musical where the music is atrocious and the choreography pedestrian. Instead of being a conduit to heighten emotion, the music in this film acts as a barrier to emotion and genuine drama.

The film’s musical numbers all feel extraordinarily flat and lifeless, and cinematographer Paul Guilhaume’s camera does nothing to enhance  them, as he spends a lot of time with his camera swirling around with little to no motivation.

The film also lacks a visual crispness, distinctive color palette, and compelling framing, so it looks, and therefore feels, like a mediocre television show. Audiard has said he set out to make an opera, but to me he has made little more than a soap opera.

I would appreciate Emilie Perez for its audacity if it actually had any, but besides its premise, the film is as dramatically conventional and uninspired as can be. No doubt the film, and its supporters, thinks it has a lot of very interesting things to say on a lot of very important topics, but the reality is that it is unrelentingly allergic to profundity.

The performances in the film have received a lot of praise and award recognition, but I found them to be less than stellar.

Zoe Saldana has won a bevy of awards this year and is a favorite to win Best Supporting Actress at the Oscars, and while I acknowledge that she does a lot in the movie, from singing and dancing to emoting, I didn’t find any of it to be captivating.

This is not to say that she does a bad job, just that what she does in the context of the film, is more admirable in its effort than it is remarkable in its result.

Karlas Sofia Gascon, who plays both Juan and Emilia, is fine, I guess. She is nominated for Best Actress at the Oscars, and because of a scandal involving nasty tweets she once posted she has no chance to win, but I think she shouldn’t win because she gives a rather one-note, shallow performance.

I don’t think it’s entirely Gascon’s fault, but we never get to know Juan or Emilia in the course of the film, instead we get to see someone play-acting and not fully inhabiting the character.

And I will add, the notion that no one recognizes Emilia as the female version of Juan is one of the more absurd leaps that the film asks audiences to make…and that’s saying a lot considering that this is a Latin pop/rap musical.

Selena Gomez does her best as Jessi, Juan’s wife, but she, like the rest of the cast, isn’t given much to work with and doesn’t do anything of note with what she is given.

If I had stumbled across Emilia Perez on Netflix one night and watched it without all of the award’s hype and all the rest, I would simply say that it was an overly ambitious film that took a very big swing and missed badly. No harm in that…in fact, good for you for going for it. Better a big swing and miss than a tepid attempt and miss.

But for some reason, Emilia Perez has 13 Oscar nominations, the most of any film this year, and for a while there pre-Gascon scandal, it looked like it might win Best Picture. Thanks to that Gascon scandal, it looks like it will lose most of the major awards except for Saldana in Best Supporting Actress…so that’s good.

Of course, the reason why the film was so lauded by the Academy and by some notable critics, is that it preaches to the choir in regards to trans issues…so much so that the film literally canonizes Emilia in its final scene. And no…I’m not shitting you.

So, the film is set up to be a vehicle by which mindless Academy members and spineless critics can signal their virtue regarding trans and diversity issues. But then a funny thing happened on the way to Oscar gold…namely LGBTQ activists took umbrage with this specific depiction of a trans character…and Mexicans got pissed at an ill-informed Frenchman (Audiard) making a movie about the problems in Mexico. Uh-oh.

So Emilia Perez went from a liberal darling to a dastardly racist and transphobic villain almost overnight and Academy members and critics were confused because they don’t actually believe in anything…which ironically enough is also true of the film Emilia Perez.

Regardless of the controversy around the film and Gascon and all the rest, the reality is that this is not a good movie and it should never ever had gotten one single Oscar nomination, never mind 13.

The truth is that Emilia Perez says more about the people advocating for it and sucked in by its ruse than anything else…and what it says, like the movie itself, is nothing good.

My recommendation is to skip Emilia Perez entirely. It is not a good movie and its isn’t even a good-bad movie…it’s just a bad-bad movie. I watched it so you don’t have to…and trust me…you really don’t have to.

©2025

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota - Episode 131: A Real Pain

On this episode Barry and I mull over the Jesse Eisenberg directed arthouse darling A Real Pain, starring Best Supporting Actor Oscar nominee Kieran Culkin. Topics discussed include our happiness that the film exists, musings on the state of Kieran Culkin, and an examination of our mixed feelings on the film. 

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota - Episode 131: A Real Pain

Thanks for listening!

©2025

Anora: A Review - 'Pretty Woman' for our Depraved, Disturbed, Dystopian Age

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. A funny and forthcoming film about the fairy tale of the American dream that in reality is a soul-crushing nightmare.

Anora, written and directed by Sean Baker, is a dark dramedy that chronicles the whirlwind romance between a sex worker in New York and the son of a rich Russian oligarch.

The film, which stars Mikey Madison as the title character, was just nominated for six Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor and Best Director, and in my opinion, very deservedly so, as it is one of the very best films of the year.

Anora is, essentially, a realistic Pretty Woman set in our dystopian times. It tells the story of Anora (Mikey Madison), a stripper and sometimes “escort” who yearns for the good life and will do most anything to get it…or at least to get some money. Then she meets Vanya (Mark Eydelshteyn), the young party boy who is a Russian oligarch’s son, and the two fall headlong into an impetuous romance.  

What astonished me about Anora and the adoration it has received from the artistic community and Hollywood, was that it is subtly and surreptitiously, and maybe even unintentionally, a robust repudiation of modern feminism.

The film’s animating ideology is unquestionably a traditionalism that nowadays is considered subversive in an oddly counter culture kind of way.

Pretty Woman was the essential myth/fairy tale of the 80’s, with wealth being the symbol of happiness, wholeness and transcendence, and love being the conduit to get it. The only things that could’ve made Pretty Woman any more symbolic of the 80’s was if Julia Robert’s character falls head over heels for “greed is good” Gordon Gekko.

Anora as the myth/fairy tale of the 2020’s, is the anti-Pretty Woman, where love is non-existent and money is a toxic cancer that devours both those that have it in abundance and those so obsessed with it that they’ll sell their soul, and body, to get it.

Anora, who prefers to be called “Ani”, is the epitome of the modern woman as prostitution is empowerment. Ani controls her own body yet chooses to sell it, and more importantly her soul, for money. Sex for Ani is, always and every time, solely transactional. She may feel empowered as a modern woman, and she makes decent money selling herself, but her value and her worth diminish with every passing moment, which is why she’s so desperate to “bag a whale”…and Vanya represents her winning lottery ticket…her fairy tale come true.

I’ll refrain from going any further into the plot or twists and turns in the film so readers can enjoy it without knowing what comes next, just like I did.

I will say though that Anora is basically three films in one. The first section of it is the “modern day meet cute”…or “meet-not-so-cute” as the case may be. The second is a comedic road picture. And the third is the heart, soul and moral of the story. All three are exceedingly well-executed.

The biggest surprise for me regarding Anora was the blistering performance of Mikey Madison. Madison is not an actress I ever considered to be any good. I saw her in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood where she played one of Manson’s major minions, and thought she was actually kind of terrible. But here in Anora she is an absolute revelation.

Madison fully inhabits Anora and makes her a real, genuine human being that is so believable and so authentic I felt like I knew her from my own life…not because she’s a stripper you perverts…but because she is an archetype that so many local women in New York inhabit.  

Madison effortlessly floats in the film from the comedy to the drama and hits every note perfectly and with a gritty yet charming intensity and humanity that never wanders.

Madison is nominated for Best Actress at this year’s Academy Awards and while she probably won’t win, she definitely gives the best performance I’ve seen this year and is more than deserving of an Oscar.

The rest of the cast are fantastic as well.

Yura Borisov, who plays Igor, a Russian henchman, jumps off the screen from the get go. Borisov is nominated for Best Supporting Actor, and his soulful and still performance is stirring for any actors out there who are looking to break through in a smaller role. Borisov breaks through because he fills every moment of screen time he has with a very vivid and palpable inner life. You actually see his character thinking and gaming things out in real time, and it is compelling.

Another performance which I thought was terrific was Karren Karagulian as Toros, an Armenian handler hired by Vanya’s father to look after him. Karagulian is so good as Toros it made me giddy. He is so furious, frantic, frightened, formidable and funny that he chews through scenes like a tiger coming off a hunger strike.

Karagulian’s Toros gives a speech in a restaurant about two-thirds of the way through the film that brings the sub-text of the movie to light but it is the secondary focus of the scene and could’ve been a throwaway piece of work but Karagulian does it so well, and it feels so real and authentic that I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

Writer/director Sean Baker, is not someone that I think of, or until now, think highly of. My introduction to Baker was his 2017 film The Florida Project, which was a very ambitious and effecting arthouse movie, but one that I ultimately couldn’t get a good grip on. His follow up film, Red Rocket (2021), was very well-received by most, and while I didn’t hate it I also I didn’t love it.

Anora is Baker showing himself to be a very confident craftsman and intellectually curious artist. His filmmaking and storytelling skills on Anora are top-notch. He paces the film well and fully fleshes out every character even with a minimum of screen time. Everything is shot to feel, if not real, then at least genuine.

As previously stated, Baker using his film to challenge the current liberal orthodoxy and the corrosive spiritual nihilism of modern feminism, shows he has artistic balls the size of watermelons…but his intentional or unintentional championing of the cause of traditionalism, inflates those balls to the size of Goodyear blimps.

Anora is currently in theatres and is available to stream VOD, and I highly recommend it to both cinephiles and scions of the cineplex. It is a funny and insightful film that never pulls its punches or plays games with its audience.

A bit of a warning though, the film does have nudity and sex scenes, although nothing is particularly graphic, but it might make the more prudish a bit uncomfortable.

In conclusion, just as Pretty Woman was a soulless selling of the corporate fairy tale of the Reagan 80’s, Anora is a soulful swallowing of the reality that the fairy tale of Reaganism in the 80’s has morphed into the nightmare of Trump, and just as importantly, the liberal feminist freakout to their nightmare of Trump, in the 2020’s. It’s an important movie not just to see, but to think about and to hopefully understand.

©2025

A Real Pain: A Review - On the Same Old Road Again

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT.  A good but not great film that trods a well-worn path but features solid enough performances to be worth seeing.

A Real Pain, written and directed by Jesse Eisenberg and starring Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin, chronicles two adult cousins as they make a pilgrimage to Poland on a Holocaust tour to visit their late grandmother’s birthplace.

The film, which has a 90-minute run-time, had a limited theatrical release in November and is now available to stream on Hulu, which is where I watched it.  

A Real Pain has a lot going for it, and some things going against it.

The best thing about this movie is that it is the type of movie, a dialogue-driven ‘two-hander’ featuring two skilled actors, that doesn’t get made enough anymore but should.

A Real Pain cost $3 million to make and made $12 million at the box office, and while that won’t buy many beach houses it’s an even enough split to consider the movie well worthwhile.

In addition, the movie is adult fare, which is a rare species nowadays. It isn’t geared toward adolescents but rather toward adults, and adults who either act like adolescents or know other adults who act like adolescents.

And finally, the film features what is sure to be an Oscar nominated performance, and very likely an Oscar winning performance, from Kieran Culkin.

The film follows Eisenberg’s David and Culkin’s Benji, cousins who grew-up together but have grown apart in adulthood, as they fly from New York City to Poland and go on a Holocaust tour with a group of other Jews. There’s an older married couple, a middle-aged divorced woman, and a black African survivor of the Rwandan genocide who has converted to Judaism.

What makes the film compelling are both Culkin and Eisenberg’s performances…but what makes the film a grating experience, are the characters Culkin and Eisenberg play.

Benji is a ne’er do well narcissist and David is a neurotic nebbish, and neither of them are even remotely likable. This isn’t the fault of the actors, it’s just the reality of the characters….and I found them to be annoying as hell, which makes for a less than ideal viewing experience.

This is just me but I have never enjoyed watching Larry David or Woody Allen, and Benji and David are sort of like very, very distant cousins to Larry David and Woody Allen respectively (very, very, very distant…but relations nonetheless).

Culkin’s Benji is supposed to be charismatic in his own peculiar, truth-telling way, but I found him to be repulsive…your mileage may vary. I had no sympathy for him, or even empathy, I just wanted him to go away. David isn’t much better. He’s such a milquetoast, anxiety-ridden wet noodle that I wanted him to disappear too.

Again, and this is important to say, it’s nothing to do with the actors…both Culkin and Eisenberg deliver very solid performances. While Culkin is getting the awards mentions, Eisenberg does equally worthy, but more subtle, work.

The truth is, as good a performance as Culkin gives, there is an air of familiarity to it that feels a little shticky. Benji is, in many ways, just Culkin’s character from Succession, Roman, except Jewish and poor. Culkin’s Benji, like Roman, is quick-witted and snarky yet allegedly good-hearted and tormented. In this way, Culkin’s performance definitely feels like he’s just doing his same old shtick with minor external variances.

That said, it’s a showy, actory part, and he does it well, and I assume Culkin will win an Oscar for it…so good for him and all the more power to him.

Eisenberg has a less showy part, and as is usual with him, is much more internally focused, and he does it well. He has a monologue in a restaurant that is particularly well-done, and smart actors will use it in acting classes and auditions for the next few years.

Eisenberg also wrote and directed the film and he did well enough on both jobs. The script isn’t earth shattering but it is structured well-enough and gives some decent scenes to the actors.

The filmmaking is pretty standard as there’s nothing earth shattering visually, but the movie has a decent pace to it and feels professionally put together, so kudos to Eisenberg on his directorial debut.

Now on to a rather uncomfortable issue, and this is without question a very uncomfortable thing to feel and to discuss, and that is that A Real Pain seems like it’s yet another movie in the Holocaust Cinematic Universe.

Hollywood loves to make Holocaust movies, and that’s understandable as that vile, calamitous event is ripe with drama, but considering the times we live in, and the genocide being actively committed against Palestinians by Israeli ancestors of those who survived the Holocaust, this film’s entitled woe-is-me narrative feels painfully tone-deaf.

The tone-deafness is only accentuated by the film’s rather alarming and arrogant usurpation of the Rwandan genocide for the Jewish narrative, as if Jewishness can be the only home for suffering on such a grand scale. This is a morally insidious and ethically insipid position as it creates a self-righteousness immune from self-reflection – which is how we get an apartheid regime in Israel committing genocide, ethnic cleansing and a cavalcade of other war crimes all in the name of “Never Again” self-defense.

It would have been nice if A Real Pain had been self-aware enough to acknowledge the deeper more conflicted state of Jewishness in the world today rather retread the martyrdom narrative once again, but I suppose that is the safest and easiest path to tread, so I get it.

Despite the combustible moment in which we exist, and the film’s discomfort with this bloody moment (to be fair the film was shot before the October 7th, 2023 Hamas attack on Israel and start of the ensuing war), I thought A Real Pain was worth watching.

The film features solid performances across the board, and is geared toward adults, so that’s two wins right there.

If you have a chance check out A Real Pain on Hulu. It’s not the greatest movie you’ll ever see, and it won’t change your life, but it will hold your interest and maybe, if you get lucky, it’ll make you think just a little bit about things you don’t want to think about but should. And regardless of what conclusion you come to through this thinking, it is always good to think about things you don’t want to from time to time.

©2025

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 129 - Nightbitch

On this episode Barry and I chase our own tails trying to find something nice to say about Amy Adams' new film Nightbitch, currently streaming on Hulu. Topics discussed include the multitude of bad decisions made by the writer/director Marielle Heller, Amy Adams' career decline, and the missed opportunity of a arthouse or body horror "mother" movie. 

And finally, stay 'til the end of the pod for a tribute to the great filmmaker David Lynch.

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 129 - Nightbitch

Thanks for listening!

©2025

Nightbitch: A Review - This Mangy Dog Won't Hunt

****THIS REVIEW CONTAINS PLOT POINTS AND MILD SPOILERS!! THEREFORE: THIS IS TECHNICALLY NOT A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!!****

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. Flaccid and flavorless feminist gruel.

Nightbitch, starring Amy Adams, chronicles the weird and wild travails of a mother as she navigates raising a toddler, perimenopause and the modern world.

Nightbitch, which is written and directed by Marielle Heller and is adapted from the Rachel Yoder book of the same name, describes itself as a “black comedy horror” film. I take umbrage with that description since the movie is not funny, darkly or otherwise, nor is it horrifying….it’s just bad.

Nightbitch starts out in quite compelling fashion as Amy Adams’ character, simply named “mother”, struggles with the mind-numbing repetitiveness and inanity of raising a toddler, in this case her son, named, “baby”. Mother’s husband, who goes by the clever moniker “husband”, is away for work from Monday to Thursday so mother must do everything on her own.

A very interesting premise and a captivating first twenty minutes about the unique difficulties of raising a toddler quickly gets derailed when a tsunami of heavy-handed, insipid, intellectual and dramatic vapidity and vacuity around gender roles and modern-day feminism comes to the fore.

The movie shifts from arthouse realism into the mire of symbolism and surreality, as mother starts to show the early signs of morphing into a dog. Again, this could’ve been a nice segue into a “body-horror” type of cinematic exploration, but instead this metamorphosis ultimately is used just as “woman tapping into her primal power” symbolism, which is about as original, interesting and captivating as watching a dog take a shit on your lawn.

This movie could have, and frankly should have, been a serious and slightly comedic meditation on how devastatingly difficult it is for women to mother a toddler in the modern world. Or it could have, and should have, been a body horror film about a woman losing herself, physically, mentally, emotionally, and artistically to motherhood and menopause/middle-age. But it is neither…it is a pitiful and pedantic tantrum by a middle-aged woman angry at her intellectual and artistic impotence and her career and familial failures and needing to blame anyone but herself.

It is also so archetypally and mythologically obtuse and contrary to collective human consciousness and conditioning as to be astounding. For example, why is a woman seeking to connect with her primal power, morphing into a dog? Dogs are pack animals and are usually led by an alpha male…so even in this feminist fantasy film, the dream is of being a male instead of an empowered female. Odd.

Another issue is the tone deafness of the class politics of the film. Mother, and all the mothers in the movie by the way, live some of the most privileged lives imaginable. They are rich enough to be afforded the option of not working and staying home to raise their children. This used to be standard operating procedure here in America, but in the last fifty years it has become a sign of rare privilege and less and less likely.

Mother is completely unaware of how spoiled she is as she lives this extraordinarily privileged life and yet still manages to wallow in her narcissistic melancholy and navel-gazing ennui. She is, at a minimum, an upper-middle class woman who can afford to not have a job and stay at home and raise her one child. The child, by the way, is so well-behaved as to be absurd, and yet still she can’t handle it.

This flaccid film is so unconscionably blind to class politics because it is designed to be nothing more than a vehicle for some of the most-trite and laughably moronic modern feminist politics imaginable.

The eye-rolling level of cringe in this movie becomes nearly unavoidable as it rolls along. For example, mother is an artist…because of course she is since she’s never actually worked a day in her life…and she’s also a former Mennonite…because of course she is because she has to be connected to some weirdly archaic lifestyle and religious background. And of course her husband is one of those pussified eunuchs who lacks both balls and any semblance of muscle tone or masculinity, who serves little to no purpose in mother or baby’s life except for supplying food, clothing and shelter.

The relationship between mother and husband says a great deal about the film. When mother and husband argue it’s because he’s an idiot and thoughtless and selfish, not because she is spoiled and irrational (which she is).

Mother was an artist “in the city” but wanted to stay home with the baby and gave up her career to do so. Husband is the bread winner….as they both agreed upon prior to the baby being born. But now she regrets that decision and somehow it is all husband’s fault for not being able to both read her mind and see into the future.

Mother decides she is unhappy and it’s all husband’s fault because he gave her everything she ever wanted…but it wasn’t what she wanted. So, she says raising this child on her own is too difficult so she wants to get separated…which will really solve the issue of being overwhelmed by having to take care of a child by yourself by removing the other adult in the equation. Brilliant….or should I say “great idea stupid bitch”.

And then…for some strange reason because he’s the one who makes money and has always been the one making money and it’s his fucking house…he moves out into an apartment complex with all the other divorced/separated dads. How about this nightbitch…it’s his fucking house and you’re the one with the problem, so you get the fuck out…how does that sound you hairy fucking mongrel? But no, Mr. Limp Dick puts his tail between his legs and goes to sleep in his race car bed in his studio apartment with all the other sad sacks at the singles complex. Pathetic.

Mother then spends her time getting back in touch with her primal nature – morphing into a dog and hunting with the pack late at night. She also spends time with other moms who all agree that “women are gods” and that “women create life!” The funny thing about this sort of bumper sticker feminism is that it is so stupid it makes my teeth hurt. For example, women don’t create life…men AND women create life…women carry it in their bodies after men inseminate them. Sort of a big difference. Also…why do I have to explain 5th grade biology to this idiotic movie?

Mother, now free on the weekends because exceedingly well behaved baby is busy overwhelming incompetent husband at the single’s complex, creates a massive amount of art that celebrates the power of mothers, and she puts on a big art show and presents in the suburbs. The art mother makes is so laughably bad, pretentious, derivative and trite it makes a toddler’s play-dough snake look like Michelangelo. The banal atrocity that is mother’s art is obvious to everyone watching the movie but apparently no one involved in making the movie. But the lesson of all this nonsensical junk is that mother can only be her true goddess self without that useless husband around…and even more menacingly…without that annoying baby occupying her precious time too.

On the bright side, Nightbitch is a wonderful encapsulation of how modern feminism teaches women to be deathly allergic to responsibility and to blame others for their personal, political, artistic and financial failures.

The “patriarchy” that the nightbitches scapegoat are made up of the rough men they love to loathe, but these are the men who carved out a place for these feckless women to live their silly, mindless, meaningless lives the way they choose…and yet still, all they can do is bitch about it.

Writer/director Marielle Heller, is one of those less-than-talented people who somehow, almost magically, con people into thinking they have actual talent. Trust me, she doesn’t have an ounce of it.

Nightbitch fits right in with Heller’s flimsy filmography, which includes Can You Ever Forgive Me? and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, because like all the other movies, it’s a mind-numbing, sub-mediocrity. It is poorly shot, poorly written, poorly executed and devoid of any real purpose or meaning except to pose as having a deep purpose or meaning.

Amy Adams is an actress I have always liked but she is on one hell of a streak of shitty movies. Her last decent movie was Arrival, and that was in 2016!

Adams dives right in to her role here as mother, and apparently gained weight for the role, which is ironic because the film is so philosophically and cinematically weightless.

She does the best she can with what she’s given but it never coalesces into a coherent or compelling performance. There is no arc, no insight, no genuine humanity or behavior. Everything feels like Amy Adams play-acting as a middle-aged feminist avatar.

Adams seems to be in a very disorienting career death spiral which started out with her aggressively attempting to finally win an Oscar after six nominations, and has morphed into her desperately flailing away in an attempt to save her moribund career.

Nightbitch was released into theatres on December 6th, which is ironic because that is one day before Pearl Harbor Day and this movie was a massive, massive bomb. The only difference between this movie and Pearl Harbor is that people paid attention to Pearl Harbor.

The film had a budget of $25 million and it made measly $170,000 at the box office. It didn’t make that its opening day, or even opening weekend, that’s how little it made in the entirety of its run. $170,000. YIKES!

A flop this bad and a box office bomb this big can be career death for a movie star and a moviemaker. Adams and Heller are on very thin ice going forward.

The film is now available to stream on Hulu…but as you may have guessed, you really don’t need to stream it. It’s stupid and even worse, it’s pointless AND gutless.

The topic of the struggle of motherhood in all its complexities is one ripe for exploration, but Nightbitch ain’t that. This movie is so toothless, so artless and so thoughtless, that it is anti-cinema made manifest. Avoid it at all costs.

©2025

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 127 - Juror #2

On this episode, Barry and I are judge, jury and executioner for Clint Eastwood's latest directorial effort, Juror #2, now streaming on Max. Topics discussed include Clint's laissez-faire approach with actors and his baffling filmography, Warner Brother's poor executive leadership, and the 30 Rock "Rural Juror" joke. Bonus segment at the end about the just-released trailer for James Gunn's new Superman movie. 

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota: Episode 127 - Juror #2

Thanks for listening!

©2024

UFO Week - The Program: A Documentary Review

UFO WEEK - THE PROGRAM

My Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. An informative and worthy effort from James Fox, one of the very best ufo documentarians in the business.

Day five of UFO Week is here and today we review the highly anticipated new James Fox documentary, The Program, which was released on December 16th and is available on video on demand.

James Fox is unquestionably one of the very best ufo documentarians working today. He has made five UFO related documentaries in the last twenty-seven years, with The Program being his sixth.

Not all of Fox’s UFO documentaries have worked, but the ones that have, like Out of the Blue (2003), I Know What I Saw (2009) and The Phenomenon (2020), are among the very best ever made.

Fox’s most recent film, Moment of Contact, was a major disappointment as it never fully came together as a noteworthy cinematic venture, and so I was very apprehensive about his newest film.

I am glad to say that The Program, while not nearly as good as the masterpiece that is Out of the Blue, is certainly a top-notch document and important piece of the UFO puzzle for any interested in a serious examination of the topic.

The film, which runs a brisk one hour and forty-two-minutes, opens with a discussion of the “Wilson Memo”, a 2002 memo allegedly sent between Admiral Wilson and astrophysicist Eric Davis regarding the secret UFO programs run by various black budget government agencies in conjunction with aerospace and military contracting companies.

The story goes from there and includes discussions with such serious luminaries as Dr. Gary Nolan of Stanford University and Hal Puthoff, as well as lesser-known insiders like former intelligence agency analyst Lenval Logan, DOD research scientist Sarah Gamm, and former Asst Deputy Secretary of Defense Christopher Mellon.

Logan and Gamm in particular make for compelling subjects as they seem like smart people trying to tell the truth while trying to avoid saying anything that would violate any oaths or NDA’s they have signed.

Mellon has become a mainstay in UFO discussions and documentaries and he gives a good interview as he comes across as serious as can be without being a fanatic. That said, I’m a bit wary of the guy with his intelligence background and his insanely rich family background (he comes from the Mellon banking dynasty).

One of Fox’s real strong points as a filmmaker is his ability to properly pace a documentary. His good films flow with an effortlessness that is compelling, and The Program is no exception.

While Fox does appear in many of his films, he is most successful when he is not the protagonist, but just an observer/interviewer.

To his great credit, Fox is masterful with his direct yet easy-going interview style, and he gets the most out of his subjects as is possible.

Another subject examined in the film is the case of Gary McKinnon, a British hacker who broke into U.S. government computer systems searching for secret UFO stuff…and found it. And for his trouble he was arrested and faced extradition and life in prison in the U.S.

What McKinnon discovered hidden away in the government vaults, besides a crystal-clear photo of a UFO, was a list of “non-terrestrial officers” which included names. Quite the unnerving find.

The film then stays in the UK and transitions to a case in Calvine, Scotland where in August of 1990, two Scotsmen photographed a UFO. The British government confiscated their pictures…but one savvy officer held one for himself and kept for thirty years, finally releasing it in recent years.

The photo is extraordinarily good, the story of the two men who took it as told by one of their co-workers, is not. The co-worker sounds like a drunk making up a story as he goes along…and it would’ve been better leaving him on the cutting room floor entirely.

Another issue with the film is the story of Jason Sands, a former-USAF airmen who worked at infamous Area 51. Sands, who was vetted and recently gave private testimony to congress, has footage of a UFO at a firing range, and tells a strange story of an interaction with an alien.

Sands’ story of his alien interaction is definitely outlandish, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Unfortunately, after having watched the film, I’ve since seen Sands interviewed elsewhere where he tells even more outrageous tales about having to execute an alien at the behest of his superiors in order to guarantee his silence about the program in which he worked. This story is just a bridge too far and makes Sands sound like a committed fabulist or a fabulist who should be committed. I wonder if he told that same tale to Fox and Fox wisely kept it out of his film or if it is a new revelation? Either way, I think in terms of credibility it probably would’ve been better for Fox to keep Sands out of his documentary entirely.

The final portion of the The Program deals with the deep state obstruction of disclosure and features the always reliable Rep. Tim Burchett and Mellon describing the undemocratic government within a government that keeps all the secrets. (As an aside about Burchett, I was recently watching an episode of Finding Bigfoot with my son, an Animal Planet reality tv series from the 2010s – and in one episode the crew goes to Knox County, Tennessee to search for bigfoot and the mayor of Knox County – good old Tim Burchett, is there to help out and discuss his interest in the subject. I wholly endorse him being named director of the Federal Department of the Weird, Wild and Wonderful.)

There’s also a very damning display from the repugnant Bill Nelson, a former Senator from Florida and now head of NASA, who puts on a bullshit display that is so transparently dishonest and full of bureaucratic bluster that it is painful to watch. That Fox himself questions Nelson in an open forum, and then does a split-screen between Nelson blatantly lying about whistleblower David Grusch, and Grusch speaking to congress, is a master stroke.

The reality is that deep state despots like Bill Nelson, Admiral Wilson and their ilk are the tyrants of our age. These unelected bullying bureaucrats run the security and surveillance state that is antithetical to democracy and a republic and keeps us in the dark and in our cage.

The Program is about the UFO programs that men like Nelson and Wilson control, and the knowledge they refuse to share because that knowledge is power and they will never give up their unearned power.

The Program is a solid, well-made documentary that is well-worth watching. Unfortunately, it is only available to purchase and not rent, and the purchase price is $17...pretty steep.

The film will no doubt be available to rent at a much cheaper price in the coming weeks, and as good as I think it is, I think it’s worth waiting to rent it a cheaper price than buy at a steep one.

The bottom line is this, The Program is a very good companion piece to Fox’s earlier films, Out of the Blue, I Know What I Saw and The Phenomenon. As a collection, these films make a great starting point for newbies to the subject, and an excellent library of information for more experienced ufologists.

©2024

UFO Week - Battle for Disclosure : A Documentary Review

UFO WEEK - BATTLE FOR DISCLOSURE

My Rating: 1/2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. Another in a long line of self-serving, money-grab documentaries from the narcissistic to the point of being messianic, Dr. Steven Greer.

Day four of UFO Week is here and today’s topic is the newest documentary from legendary ufologist Steven Greer, Battle for Disclosure.

The film, which runs one hour and forty-one minutes and is directed by Brent and Blake Cousins, was released on December 10th and is available to rent on video on demand. I rented it the day it came out and paid $1.99, but I have since went back to check the price and has been listed at $9.99 one day and $3.99 another.

The hard truth is the film isn’t worth $1.99, nevermind $9.99 or $3.99.

Steven Greer has produced a bevy of documentaries in recent years. The Lost Century: And How to Reclaim It (2023), Contact: The CE-5 Experience (2023), UFO: Endgame to Disclosure (2023), The Cosmic Hoax: An Expose (2021), Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind (2020), Unacknowledged (2017) and Siruis (2013) are among the titles.

These films all share one very prominent feature…namely Steven Greer talking mostly about Steven Greer and how much Steven Greer knows.

If you don’t know who Steven Greer is…here is a primer. Steven Greer, or more accurately Dr. Steven Greer, is a physician turned ufologist who claims to have been an advisor of sorts to numerous presidents and governments officials over the years on the subject of ufos. How he became so close to the halls of power has never adequately been explained, but Greer does have pictures of himself with various big wigs, so there’s that.

Greer claims he saw a ufo as a kid and again as a teen and that he has some deep connection with them. Apparently, it is a very strong connection because he actually claims to be able to summon them.

And thus, we get to the crux of Dr. Greer. Dr. Greer has the distinct whiff of the grift to him, and that stench is quite odious. Greer obviously has a messiah complex as indicated by the fact that he, and he alone, has been bequeathed special powers and the he, and he alone, is the holder of special, secret knowledge. In this way Greer’s school of ufology feels more like a cult than a scientific exploration.

Greer’s ufo thesis is that aliens are a benevolent bunch who want to give humanity free energy technology that will release us from the bondage of our evil overlords and unleash a utopia here on earth. To be clear…I WANT Greer’s thesis to be correct. But Greer is such a shady character and seeming charlatan that I can’t help but dismiss his ideas even when some of them are somewhat believable.

For example, in Battle for Disclosure, Greer talks about how a lot of ufo sightings are actually human made crafts that were reverse engineered from alien craft byu a dep state cabal. Greer’s argument is that these human-made ufos are “illegal”…and he can “prove it in a court of law”, because the government didn’t disclose the technology…or something like that.

Greer’s legal grandstanding feels like just another example of his messiah complex…like who gives a shit if Steven Greer can “prove in a court of law” that the dark deep state is up to ufo shenanigans…because you aren’t going to get it into a court of law…that’s how the game works.

Throughout the film Greer, with a peculiar, ever-present and diabolically persistent, booger-free nose hair saluting out of his left nostril, declares that HE could prove his case in court…but then never actually meticulously makes his case for the cameras.

Battle for Disclosure is structured in such a way that it is obviously made for people who have been closely following Greer’s films and philosophy over the years. It hits the ground running from the get go and doesn’t give much context, expecting viewers to know the backstory already.

In another peculiar move, Greer goes out of his way in the first third of the film to berate, diminish and ultimately dismiss journalist Ross Coulthart, and whistleblowers David Grusch and Lue Elizondo as deceptive scions of the deep state. He doesn’t specifically lay out his case against them but just attacks them.

Now, many of my friends in the ufo community (I have a lot of them), think very highly of people like Grusch and Elizondo and Christopher Mellon. They are all in on these guys and hang on their every word. I, on the other hand, am not and do not. I look at these characters with the most jaundiced of eyes. I don’t trust them because to trust members, or former members, of the intelligence community, is a fool’s errand. These people are professional liars and they are very good at manipulation. To be clear, I don’t dismiss everything they say out of hand, I am just skeptical of what they say and more importantly, why they may be saying it.

The problem, of course, is that Greer attacking Elizondo and Grusch and their ilk without making a viable and clear case against them, doesn’t do much to damage their credibility nor does it elevate his…it just makes him seem petty and jealous of all the mainstream attention those guys get.

In the last third of the film the narrative shifts to a collection of men recounting their experiences with ufos of one type or another. These men, all military men at the time of their encounters, tell compelling but often-times preposterous tales – all of which Greer substantiates through his alleged unnamed insider sources in the deep state.

The first story is from former US Marine Michael Herrera, who claims to have stumbled upon a human trafficking operation in Indonesia run by black ops guys that used ufo/alien tech. He said his superiors were pissed at him and his team about their discovery and told him to keep his mouth shut.

Another story was told by DC Long, who while working on a military base saw technology that could use some strange sound wave technology of some sort to lift massive blocks of granite. When Long refused to sign an NDA regarding what he saw, the government destroyed his father’s construction business and confiscated all his equipment. Long’s father never spoke to him again until he was on his deathbed.

The third story is from Steven Digna Jr., who saw a ufo while doing live fire drills on a military base. Digna is in such a diminished physical and mental state at the time of shooting his interview, that it is preceded by a disclaimer of sorts telling the viewer that these guys have been through the ringer and it’s taken a deadly toll on their lives.

Digna’s story is, frankly, the most believable, but he is in such a fragile physical and emotional state it is difficult to watch him or to know if he is telling the truth.

The final story comes from Eric Hecker, who worked for the Navy and Raytheon and went to Antarctica to work security there. Hecker claims he saw a directed energy weapons system there that is capable of creating earthquakes. He claims it is the largest telescope that is also a phased array transmitter – a sort of air traffic control for UFOs – and is capable of faster than light communications. Hecker claims this weapons/communications system is above and beyond nations…it’s a transnational program that answers to no government.

The stories told by these men are pretty fascinating. I found Hecker’s the most chilling, Digna’s the most believable, Long’s the saddest, and Herrera’s the most bizarre and incomprehensible. Your mileage may vary.

As for the Battle for Disclosure as a whole, I found it to be a poorly constructed, muddled and jumbled mess of a cinematic venture. It is less a document designed to inform or convince than it is a money grab from those already converted to the Church of Greer.  

Battle for Disclosure, or any of Greer’s films for that matter, are not really useful for the majority of ufologists, nor are they a good place to start for newbies, as they are too fantastical and Greer is too aggressively grating and dubious a spokesman to be convincing.

The bottom line is, while I am immensely skeptical to the point of devout disbelief, I do hope that Steven Greer is right and that E.T. is coming to save our home and free us from the villains who currently rule our world, but that doesn’t make his documentaries good or worth watching or very informative. They are, for the most part, pretty much a waste of time….and if you’re a dope like me…a waste of money too.  

©2024

UFO Week - Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown (MGM+) - A Documentary Review

BEYOND: UFOS AND THE UNKNOWN

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE. IT. NOW. One of the very best UFO documentaries I’ve seen. Highly informative and insightful. Well worth watching whether you’re a seasoned ufologist or a newbie to the topic.

It is day three of UFO Week here at the home office and things got off to a decidedly bumpy start with two less than stellar documentaries in day one and two.

Thankfully, day three is a gem.

The documentary today is Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown, a four-part documentary miniseries from JJ Abrams’ production company Bad Robot that released it’s first episode on October 27th and its last episode on November 8th.

Bad Robot released their first UFO documentary back in 2021, simply titled UFO, and I found it to be professionally made but underwhelming in a style over substance kind of way.

Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown is not underwhelming in the slightest. Simply said, it is exquisitely made, abundantly researched, and one of the very best documentaries on the subject I have ever seen.

The documentary series, which runs roughly four hours long in total, hits upon a myriad of angles related to the UFO topic. It examines it scientifically, historically, politically and spiritually.

If you’re looking for a murderer’s row of UFO experts Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown is the documentary miniseries for you.

The stellar first episode opens up with a bang with Dr. Gary Nolan, an esteemed medical professor at the prestigious Stanford University, speaking about his scientific and medical work with various intelligence agencies on deathly serious UFO-related topics.

It then dives into the bevy of sightings and experiences of Navy pilots who witnessed and recorded their interaction with various entities in the last twenty years…resulting in the Gimble and Go-Fast videos made famous in the New York Times article of 2017 that brought the UFO topic into the mainstream.

This episode features prominent Naval personnel like former pilot Ryan Graves, Rear Admiral Tim Galudet, as well as Leslie Kean, the journalist who wrote the NY Times piece in 2017, and Christopher Mellon, a former Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense – and now prominent UFO disclosure advocate.

Also examined are the maze of various UFO programs in the Pentagon over the years and the mind-numbing acronyms that go along with them. As well as the very complex political situation around the subject, which is explained by Senator Kristen Gillibrand, who describes the military’s handling of the UFO situation, “duplicitous and inappropriate.” Wow.

Episode two delves into the history of ufology and features a who’s who of UFO heavy-hitters, like the godfather of ufology, Jacque Vallee, and the guy who knows where all the bodies are buried, PhD Hal Puthoff.

Also explored are the early days of ufology, including Donald Keyhoe’s important work and the curious case of J. Allen Hynek.

One of the most important things discussed in this episode is how it is the Navy pilots who are reporting UFO encounters, with nary a peep from the Air Force. The reasons why this might be are fascinating, not the least of which is that the intelligence agencies take a large chunk of the Air Force budget for black projects, so they are deeply intertwined with the Air Force…and not the Navy.

The other big topic in episode two is Whitley Strieber and alien abduction. Strieber, who was a novelist who was allegedly abducted in the 1980s in upstate New York and wrote a best-selling book about it titled “Communion”, was a catalyst for hundreds of thousands of regular people across the country to come forward with their abduction stories in letters to him after he published his book.

Strieber’s story is an intriguing and compelling one, and he is a terrific spokesperson - articulate, humble and serious.

This leads into episode three and four which feature Jeffrey Kripal, a professor of philosophy and religion at Rice University, who has begun to gather UFO source material from Strieber and Vallee among others in one place so that scientists and academics can do serious study of the subject without ridicule. He has also has begun conferences on esoteric subjects that brings together experts and experiencers to discuss once taboo subjects academically and scientifically.

Episodes three and four delve deeply into the metaphysical and spiritual aspects of UFOs and what they may be beyond physical objects, and what they may mean to science, philosophy and humanity going forward.

Episodes three and four are so rich with deeply serious and thoughtful discussions on elevated esoteric matters that they are worth watching over and over again…as is the rest of the series.

For seasoned followers of the UFO topic, Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown is a gloriously rich documentary that not only informs but seriously challenges.

For newcomers to the subject, this documentary is a great starting place if for no other reason than to give a brief glimpse at the scope and scale of the subject matter, and to do so with a seriousness that it deserves.

The biggest problem with Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown is that it is very difficult to find. The documentary is currently only available on the streaming service MGM+. Not only do I know no one who is a subscriber to MGM+, I myself had never heard of it until I went looking for Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown. That’s not a good thing because unless if you’re a UFO nerd like me, you wouldn’t know this documentary series exists, and therefore won’t ever stumble upon it unless you explicitly are looking for it.

Hopefully it will eventually become available to rent through Amazon or Apple in the future, but for now the best thing to do to see it is to sign up for MGM+…which will give you a free week before it’s month to month subscription at $6.99 kicks in. Watch Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown during your free week…in fact I’d recommend you watch it twice, like I did…and then cancel your subscription before you actually have to pay.

The bottom line is this…whether you’re a ufologist or a newbie, Beyond: UFOs and the Unknown is a must-watch documentary miniseries if you want to have a deeper understanding of the UFO phenomenon and topic. I highly recommend you put in the effort to find and to watch it because considering what is going on in our world at the moment, arming yourself with as much knowledge as you can is a very good idea.

©2024

UFO Week - Investigation Alien (Netflix): A Documentary Review

UFO WEEK - INVESTIGATION ALIEN

My Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT.  An abysmally made mini-series that is allergic to insight and context. Total shitshow.

Investigation Alien, a six-part documentary mini-series that premiered on Netflix on November 8th, follows legendary reporter George Knapp as he and his team seek the truth of the UFO phenomenon.

George Knapp, for those who don’t know, is one of the most important journalists in the UFO community. Knapp was taking the UFO subject seriously back in the 1980’s as a television reporter for KLAS-TV in Las Vegas when no one in the mainstream media would touch it with a ten-foot pole. In fact, when Knapp was maybe the first legitimate journalist to cover the UFO topic without smirking and winking to let the audience know it was all a joke. To Knapp, and to a large audience, it isn’t a joke, and he covered it like a real news story.

Among the prominent stories that Knapp has brought forth are John Lear’s claims of the U.S. government having downed craft and bodies, much reporting on Area 51, reporting on bizarre happenings at Skinwalker Ranch, and his bombshell 1989 interview with Bob Lazar, who claimed to have worked at Area 51 on alien craft.

Knapp is still at the forefront of serious journalists reporting the UFO topic, and if you watched the recent congressional hearings with whistleblower David Grusch, you could see Knapp sitting directly behind him in the galley.

Knapp’s bona fides and his integrity when it comes to UFO reporting is unquestionable, so when I heard he had a Netflix documentary mini-series coming out, I was very excited.

Then I watched Investigation Alien.

This series is a devastating disappointment. It is so bad, so cheaply made, so derivative and dull, and frankly, so tawdry and stupid and such a brazen money-grab, that it has deeply damaged Knapp’s standing as a journalist, his integrity and has forever tarnished his legacy.

The series is poorly produced and shot like a second-rate reality series as it follows Knapp, and some superfluous and annoying underlings, as they go out seeking the truth about cattle mutilations, Brazilian UFO sightings and alien encounters, underwater anomalies off the Pacific coast, the Phoenix lights, and government cover-ups.

None of the six episodes is even remotely interesting or well-made, and in fact, some are so stupid they made me laugh out loud when I wasn’t cringing. No new information is presented, no insights gained, no compelling knowledge shared.

To give an indication of how ridiculous this series is, there’s a sequence where Knapp goes to talk to a “whistleblower” and they meet out in the middle of nowhere at night, with car lights the only illumination. The setting is obscenely absurd but is fitting as the whistleblower is a clown who fits right in with the reality tv circus that is Investigation Alien. If this were a genuine journalistic endeavor, instead of a tawdry money-grab, they’d meet the whistleblower in a hotel or office and keep him in shadow instead of putting on a dog and pony show meant to look like an adolescent spy thriller.

The cattle mutilation episode opens the series and is so painfully moronic and intellectually obtuse it made teeth hurt. Knapp goes to the Northwest to talk to two ranchers who’ve lost cattle to mutilation. No insight is given, no context supplied, no case built or presented.

Watching the first episode was a devastatingly deflating experience, and the rest of the series goes about as well as episode one. Getting through this idiotic mess of a mini-series is a complete slog.

I’ve spoken to multiple people with considerable knowledge on the UFO topic who have watched this series and the vast majority of them were at a minimum disappointed, and some of them loathed it with a furious passion.  Consider me among those in the latter category, as this series’ stupidity left me in an incandescent rage.

One well-informed ufologist I spoke to was so pissed about the series that he seriously thought that the show was intentionally bad at the behest of the powers that be who demanded Knapp scuttle his credibility and with it the ability of the general public to take the UFO topic seriously. I don’t know if that is true but I will say that the series is so bad that I can see how someone would think it is.

Knapp is partnered on a podcast, titled Weaponized, with documentarian Jeremy Corbell. Corbell and Knapp are one of the more prominent pairs in ufology - for example, Corbell too can be seen sitting in the front row of the congressional hearing featuring David Grusch, right next to Knapp.

It is very interesting to me that Corbell, despite being attached at the hip to Knapp the rest of his professional life,  is only seen very briefly in Investigation Alien. It is also curious that Corbell himself didn’t direct it, since he is a documentarian and has made a notable documentary on the UFO subject, titled Bob Lazar: Area 51 and Flying Saucers. It would seem from Corbell’s reticence to be in this ill-conceived and dismally executed Knapp series that he knew it was going to be a shitshow from the jump and was trying to salvage whatever credibility he could by keeping away from it. Wise move.

Ultimately, Investigation Alien is an unconscionably awful documentary mini-series that would set back the seriousness of the UFO topic decades if it weren’t for the real-time events happening in the world that prove it needs to be taken very seriously.

I cannot, under any circumstances, recommend Investigation Alien, even as an introduction to the topic of UFOs. The series is just too egregiously made and too unserious to be of any value even to newcomers.

©2024

UFO Week - Manhattan Alien Abduction (Netflix): A Documentary Review

UFO WEEK: MANHATTAN ALIEN ABDUCTION

Earlier this year I was alerted to the fact that starting on October 30th and running up to December 16th, there were going to be five UFO-related documentaries being released on various streaming platforms.

As someone who has been interested in the topic and followed it for the majority of my adult life, I was glad that there would be a bevy of new UFO documentaries to digest. I was so happy, in fact, that I decided that once the final documentary, James Fox’s The Program, was released on December 16th, I would have a celebratory “week” on the website and review all the UFO documentaries over the course of five days – one review a day.

But then a funny thing happened on the way to UFO week…namely UFOs!! In the past two weeks there has been a cavalcade of coverage of the UFO topic because apparently New Jersey is being swarmed by drones of “unknown origin” that nobody seems to be able to do anything about. (As an aside…its odd that they are called “drones” when in fact they are the etxtbook definition of UAP’s - unidentified aerial phenomenon, or UFOs - unidentified flying objects…makes you think)

The New Jersey reports have been followed by reports, and video, from other areas of the country and the globe. Truth be told, a week before the New Jersey sightings, my son and I witnessed a very bizarre anomalous object flying at night over our farm in rural Pennsylvania. It looked somewhat like a plane, but it wasn’t a plane, and it made no noise and had odd lights on it that are not like the lights on a regular plane. We spotted something similar, but not identical, just last week as well, again at night.

We get lots of military craft flying over our farm so I just chalked it up to some military craft I couldn’t identify….and maybe it is…and maybe that’s what everyone is seeing over New Jersey. Who knows? There have been other reports in the local media of UAP/drones in the area over the weekend.

The theories about the sightings in New Jersey are all over the map. There are people claiming they are “Special Ops” drones used to sniff out a nuclear threat posed by a “loose nuke” or a “dirty bomb”. The theory goes from there and speculates the nuke is from Iran or China or Russia.

Others speculate that it is actually a false flag and that nefarious elements of the U.S. government are planning to detonate a nuke and blame it on…Iran, China and/or Russia in order to get the neo-con world war of their dreams.

Then there are those who think the “drones” are from Iran/China/Russia and are part of some recon mission that is a prelude to a Pearl Harbor type event.

Then there are others who think that the events of the last two weeks are the beginnings of “disclosure”, where the government admits there are aliens and they’re here, or the aliens step out of the shadows and tell everyone themselves that they’re here.

There are others who think that this is just a false flag using Project Bluebeam to make it appear there are alien craft in our skies in order to scare people and drum up a draconian response that demands we give up more rights to the powers that be in order to stay “safe”.

And finally, there are those who claim that this is all a hoax or a mass hallucination, and that some teenagers are flying normal drones over New Jersey as a gag and the media and the populace are going full War of the Worlds on it because they’re in the throes of hysteria.

As for who to believe…one thing is for certain, whatever government spokespeople say - don’t believe it as it is either going to be a manufactured lie or completely and utterly incorrect. That you can take to the bank.

What do I think is happening? Honestly, I don’t know. My sense is that the false flag discussion, be it about nukes or Project Bluebeam, are probably on the correct track…but who the hell knows?

On that note…let me officially welcome you to UFO Week!! Let’s start things off with a review of the Netflix documentary mini-series Manhattan Alien Abduction.

MANHATTAN ALIEN ABDUCTION

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. This could have, and should have, been a thorough debunking of an abduction claim, but it is a rather empty and shallow miniseries that diminishes everyone involved.

Manhattan Alien Abduction, which premiered on Netflix on October 30th, tells the story of Linda Napolitano – who claims to have been abducted from her New York City apartment on November 30th, 1989, and her nemesis, Carol Rainey, who thinks the story is an elaborate hoax.

Napolitano’s story is, not unexpectedly, an odd one. She claims that on November 30th, 1989, in the middle of the night, that aliens abducted her out of her 12th floor Manhattan apartment “on a blue beam of light, lifting her onto a reddish-orange spacecraft that quickly sped off toward the Brooklyn Bridge.”

Linda’s story could easily be dismissed as the ravings of a mad woman except for the fact that there were 23 people who claimed to witness it, among them a “world leader”, namely United Nations Secretary General Perez de Cuellar.

What really propelled Linda’s story into the spotlight was that she brought her tale to ufologist Budd Hopkins, who was one of the leaders in the study of alien abduction in UFO culture, and was a conduit for Linda to the wider UFO community.

Hopkins, who died in 2011, was very well known in the UFO world for having been among the first, along with Harvard psychiatrist Dr. John Mack, to use hypnosis to help people recall their abduction experiences. Hopkins hypnotized writer Whitley Strieber and assisted him in recalling his famous abduction experience which is recounted in the blockbuster book Communion (1987).

Hopkins brought Linda into his world of self-help alien abduction survivor meetings in his New York City apartment, and dove deep into her story, including with hypnosis.

Carol Rainey was Budd Hopkins’ wife at the time of Linda’s alleged abduction, and had a front row seat to Linda’s relationship with Budd and with her time in the spotlight recounting her tale to anyone who’d listen in the media.

Manhattan Alien Abduction is essentially a cat fight between Linda and Carol stretched over three episodes.

Carol is there to debunk Linda’s story, and Linda is there to convince you of it.

In my less than humble opinion, neither woman succeeds, despite the mini-series obviously being made for Carol’s benefit and from her perspective rather than from Linda’s or from a genuine journalistic instinct.

Linda’s story is, frankly…preposterous, and it only gets more and more outlandish with every passing fact and incident that comes to light.

For example, Linda claims that two bodyguards for UN Secretary general Cuellar, named Richard and Dan, come to her apartment in the days after her abduction and, in a somewhat menacing fashion, question her about the incident, and in doing so admit they, along with Cuellar, saw the whole thing while driving by that night.

That element of the story is fine and is very helpful in making Linda seem somewhat believable…but the Richard and Dan story just goes off the rails from there.

Linda claims Richard and Dan later abducted her…while she was walking down the street audio recording herself for her own safety, and abscond her to some location to threaten and question her again.

This second Richard and Dan story is, frankly, embarrassing. It sounds so fake and so stupid is boggles the mind that anyone would tell it, never mind believe it. But Linda told it, and Budd Hopkins believed it.

Linda seemed to have Hopkins wrapped around her finger by playing the ‘fragile bird who needs protecting’ game, and Hopkins fell for it. This seemed to infuriate Carol back in the 1980’s and 90’s…and still today.  

Back at the time, Carol, a self-proclaimed documentarian and journalist, then goes about getting Linda on camera as much as she can and investigating her story in order to debunk it. Carol, and the makers of this docu-series, think she has succeeded…I don’t.

To be clear, I don’t believe Linda’s preposterous and ever more outlandish story. It is so outrageous and ridiculous as to be absurd. But that also makes it very easy to debunk…and Carol and the makers of this documentary, fail to do even the most rudimentary journalistic work to expose Linda as a fraud…but they work very hard to make it seem like they’ve done the work.

For example, Linda and Budd have 23 witnesses who claim to have seen her being abducted into the New York night sky. That’s a lot of witnesses. A scene plays out in the documentary where Carol, while videotaping in the early 90’s, has Budd call one of the witnesses in order to question them, but Budd isn’t able to get in touch with them and leaves a message. This is his second attempt to do so. No other attempts are made…and Carol, and the producers, claims this proves all the witnesses are fake or frauds. Huh?

The claim is also made by Carol that she called one witness and that it “sounded like Linda”. Again, this is the extent of the journalism on display in this series. Out of 23 witnesses, one didn’t call back and the other sounds kind of like Linda, and so that makes all 23 fake or fraudulent? That is just as ridiculous a claim as Linda’s original claims.

Then there’s the story of Richard and Dan, the UN security guards for the Secretary General. Back in 1990 Carol films Linda as they go through file footage of various UN events and Linda actually identifies one of the guys in the video as being Dan. She literally ID’s the guy.

Now, does that mean it is the guy? Does that mean that the guy she ID’s came to her house and did all the things she claims? No. What it does mean is that it should be easy to investigate who that person is…and maybe…just maybe…find him and talk to him. If you work as a security guy at the UN, there’s a paper trail, pay stubs, taxes, insurance, and all the rest. There’s a paper trail and probably a picture ID on file. Do Carol and the producers of this series investigate and find that material? No, they don’t. Why not? I have no idea. Maybe they’re lazy.

Carol and the producers do have handwriting analysis done on a type-written letter signed by Secretary Cuellar in which he claims to have seen all that happened to Linda that night in 1989. The hand writing analysis is on Cuellar’s signature and the expert declares that no one writes their name exactly the same way twice and this signature is too perfect to be real.

Now, the signature and the type-written letter may very well be fake, but public officials use signature stamps to sign their name all the time…is it out of the possibility that this happened here? No. Did Carol or the producers acknowledge this? Also no.

If Linda is as big a bullshitter as she appears to be in this documentary, you’ve got to find more substantial evidence and prove she is a bullshitter…it can’t be that hard.

What about the other 22 witnesses? Did they try and track them down? Who are they and where are they?

Where’s the investigation into Richard and Dan and the UN and all that? This is simple stuff. It may not be easy to do and may take effort, but if Linda is so full of shit then it should be easy to prove and yet they never prove it.

With the slightest bit of awareness on the game being played on you by understanding what is missing from this series, Manhattan Alien Abduction looks in hindsight to be a cheap and tawdry venture.

As bizarre and unbelievable as Linda’s claims are the investigation into them is shallow and amateurish. Do the work. Track down the witnesses. Find a connection. Don’t just speculate and assume and conjecture and imply…investigate and prove…or in this case, disprove.

Here’s another oddity about this mini-series, namely that Carol Rainey has her own major biases from a tormented childhood in a religious cult, and from her personal relationship with Budd Hopkins, that skew her own objectivity and judgement.

Hopkins and Rainey divorced in 2006, and when he died in 2011 he was in a relationship with Leslie Kean. You know who Leslie Kean is? She’s the journalist who went on to break the big UFO story published in the New York Times in 2017 that brought ufology into the mainstream.

The question I have after learning of Hopkins relationship with Kean, and Carol Rainey’s background and her obvious jealousy of Linda Napolitano, is this…is this docuseries just Carol Rainey in a jealous fit trying to destroy the legacy of Budd Hopkins, Linda Napolitano’s reputation and undermine Leslie Kean’s life’s work?

As much as I think Linda Napolitano is a fabulist, I think Carol Rainey is one too…and a much more nefarious one. Rainey is the woman scorned, and while she may be right about everything, her personal vindictiveness and venom are not journalistically acquired evidence…they are just grievances in the form of accusations.

Ultimately, Manhattan Alien Abduction disappoints despite a very compelling thesis, and is scuttled by a thoroughly amateurish and weak journalistic effort that fails to adequately disprove something that should be so easily debunked.

©2024

The Substance: A Review - Everything Old is New Again

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. Be forewarned, this is a body horror movie with ample amounts of gooey gore, but it is also a well-executed and well-acted piece of social commentary that works quite well despite some major issues with its third act.

The Substance, written and directed by Coralie Fargeat, is, almost despite itself, one of the more intriguing films of 2024.

The movie is a satirical body horror film that stars Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle, a once celebrated but now aging star who hosts an exercise show ala Jane Fonda in the 1980s.

On Elisabeth’s fiftieth birthday she connects with a mysterious company that sells “The Substance” – which is an injectable formula that creates a second, younger you. As The Substance company is quick to remind customers, this new version isn’t a different person from the original…the original and the newer version are one in the same.

A desperate and depressed Elisabeth ultimately chooses to take The Substance and the rest of the film involves Elisabeth and her younger new self, Sue - magnificently played by Margaret Qualley, trying to navigate their very unusual circumstances.

The Substance, which is available VOD or on the streaming service MUBI (you can get a free trial subscription for a week and then cancel – that’s what I did) is an undeniably clever movie that is well-executed enough to be elevated to an interesting and compelling piece of cinema. It masterfully and often hysterically comments on the long-running, rampant misogyny and ageism in Hollywood. Having worked with many women in the acting business over the years I can attest that it’s a young woman’s game, and hitting thirty, never mind forty or fifty, is often a death knell.

The Substance’s biggest issue as a film is that it is two-thirds of a very good one. Unfortunately, in the final act the story and the film’s internal logic and perspective, take a beating and the movie meanders aimlessly for about thirty minutes until finally settling on a less than satisfying conclusion.

French writer/director Fargeat seems like she didn’t know how, or when, to end her movie. In this way The Substance reminded me of another pretty good horror film in recent years, Barbarian, which was exquisite for its first two acts and then devolved into a bit of a derivative mess.

As poor as the final act of The Substance is, and it really is poor, the first two acts are really wonderful.

Demi Moore gives a brave performance as Elisabeth, doing a bevy of extended nude scenes – which are pivotal to the narrative and to the drama. An actress having the courage to bare her aging body on the big screen in age and perfection obsessed Hollywood is a courageous one indeed.

Casting Moore, whose career is vaguely similar to Elisabeth’s, is a meta-textual masterpiece, most of all because she gives a dynamic, nuanced and very vulnerable performance which elevates the film.

Margaret Qualley is an actress who I have noticed from the beginning of her career. I remember the first time I saw her was in a small film titled The Novitiate. I thought she was extremely good in that mostly forgettable movie as she displayed an undeniable charisma and magnetism…and thought she had a chance to have a big career in front of her. I didn’t even know she was Andie McDowell’s daughter at the time.

Qualley has proven me right with her work since then. She was spectacular in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and she is equally impressive here.

I was going to congratulate Qualley on her bravery as well for the numerous nude scenes and body shots on display in The Substance, but I was informed by a female “friend” that Qualley used a body double for her nude scenes. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I will say that whoever is baring their body as Sue in this film, be it Margaret Qualley or a body double, has my respect and gratitude.

Qualley is fantastic as Sue as she fills her with a verve and vitality that few can replicate on screen. Sue’s persistence, petulance and power are a combustible combination, and the film comes alive whenever Qualley as Sue is unleashed.

Another noteworthy performance comes from Dennis Quaid as pervert producer Harvey. Quaid goes all in on repugnancy and is such a repellent figure it is uncomfortably hysterical. That director Fargeat repeatedly shoots him in the most grotesque of close-ups only heightens Harvey’s repugnancy.

Despite the misstep that is the third act, there is no denying the great job writer/director Coralie Fageat did in the first two acts of The Substance.

The film is exquisitely shot and edited, and the costumes and sets are artistic perfection. There are little details throughout the film that are impressive to notice, such as all the cars parked in the street when Elisabeth is walking around town, are either, fancy sports cars or refurbished muscle cars – which is a subtle cinematic touch that is an indication of a quality director at the helm.

Recommending The Substance is a slightly tricky thing to do because as stated it is a body horror movie, so there are ample scenes of grotesque gore that, while well-executed, are pretty horrific. If you’re into that sort of thing I think you’ll definitely love this movie…even the third act.

If you’re not into that sort of thing, then this might be a tougher watch. I would recommend The Substance to the cavalcade of, dare I say it, older actresses I know (ducking to avoid the Manolo Blahnik being thrown at my head), because they will totally get the sentiment that drives this movie even if the body horror stuff is a turn off.

The truth is that in lesser hands, both in terms of the acting and the directing, The Substance could have been a real cringeworthy piece of feminist bitching, moaning and man-hating. But Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley and director Coralie Fargeat make this satiric body horror story into a complex cinematic venture that, despite its massive third act issues, is an insightful, and thoughtful piece of work worth checking out.

The Substance resonates as a piece of art, and despite being a body horror film it really is at heart a European arthouse movie, because it exists in a world over-run by Instagram and Tik Tok influencers making a living off of exploiting their young, nubile bodies, and in which the public sphere and the entertainment industry have been pornified beyond belief.

The Substance doesn’t get everything right, but it gets enough right, particularly the performances of Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, to be worth watching.

©2024

The Disaster That is Hollywood’s ‘Diversity Era’

“If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs…” – my motto for the last 8 years, borrowed from Rudyard Kipling.

This past weekend the esteemed New York Times Magazine ran a piece titled “Is the Awkward ‘Diversity Era’ of Hollywood Behind Us?” written by Kabir Chibber.

The article caught my eye because as long-time readers can attest, I have been writing critically, and seemingly endlessly, about Hollywood’s ‘Diversity Era’ for the better part of eight years now. If Cassandra and Nostradamus had a child prodigy whose sole gift was the ability to clearly diagnose the excesses of Hollywood’s ‘Diversity Era’ as it was happening but to be ruthlessly ignored/punished for their correct prophecies…that child would be me.

I would link to the articles to prove my bona fides as a critic of the ‘Diversity Era’ but there are so many of them it would be ridiculous to even try. If you type “woke” into the search bar of this website your computer, and your brain, may explode at the avalanche of articles that confront you.

I don’t know, and don’t really care, who this Kabir Chibber is…but to quote John McClain from Die Hard…”welcome to the party, pal”…even if it is 8 years too late.

Hollywood’s ‘Diversity Era’ essentially started in 2015 with the mathematically ignorant protest movement named Oscars Too White. In the wake of that nonsense came the calamity that was Trump’s election victory over Hillary Clinton, followed by the Harvey Weinstein revelations and the #MeToo movement and Black Lives Matter and the rest.

Hollywood, and some audience members, went into a tailspin of emotionalism and lost their minds in a hysterical fever of self-righteousness in the wake of these events. This hysteria forced them to embarrass themselves by seeing racism and sexism everywhere, and by steadfastly ignoring quality in favor of diversity when it came to cinema, and by also being deathly allergic to reality.

Examples abound of how asinine and insane the ‘Diversity Era’ has been…here are a few tips of the very crazy iceberg.

The ‘Diversity Era’ made the middling Marvel movie Black Panther into a Best Picture Academy Award nominee, and had middle-aged white women giving black power salutes in theatres like they were Huey Newton.

It turned mind-numbing mediocrities like Jordan Peele and Greta Gerwig into award-contending auteurs and made the mundanities that were Peele’s Get Out and Gerwig’s Lady Bird into Best Picture nominees. Hell, people were furious when Gerwig wasn’t nominated for Best Director last year for the insultingly awful Barbie. Oh yeah…and it made Barbie into a box office blockbuster too.

Ava DuVernay, one of the truly atrocious filmmakers of her time, becoming a Hollywood power player due to DEI is one of the signs of how widespread and potent the ‘Diversity Era’ disease really was.

Disney lost its fucking mind in the ‘Diversity Era’ and essentially sabotaged its two largest cash cow franchises, Marvel and Star Wars, on the altar of wokeness by going Girl Power crazy and replacing all their white male leads with women, women of color or people of color. Ironically, no white guys were allowed in the ‘Diversity Era’.

Marvel went from being the biggest box office behemoth of all-time to being a franchise in free fall, all because executives in the C suite wanted to signal their virtue by getting rid of their white male leads.

The post-Endgame Marvel lineup looks like it was assembled by an HR department at a Seven Sisters liberal arts school. Thor was replaced by Lady Thor, Black Panther was replaced by Lady Black Panther, Iron Man was replaced by black Lady Iron Man (Iron Heart), Captain America was replaced with black Captain America and Shang-Chi – a second rate character if there ever was one, got his own movie, as did the female fronted and directed Eternals – one of the worst films of the last decade. All of these movies were absolutely abysmal by the way.

Star Wars was turned into a girls and gays franchise over these last 8 years with the Rey storyline and the incessantly PC narratives and casting of their television series like Ahsoka and The Acolyte. Again, white guys need not apply…in either the creative process or the viewership.

Film critics across the mainstream media sacrificed their credibility and integrity on the altar of the ‘Diversity Era’ too as they bent over backwards to pretend to like sub-par movies just because they were ‘diverse’, and/or had a female or person of color director and/or star, and they continuously handled all ‘diverse’ projects with the most patronizing of kid gloves.

The list of Best Picture winners at the Academy Awards in the recent past highlights how deep the ‘Diversity Era’ hysteria went. It all started with Moonlight, a story about a gay black boy - directed by the entirely forgettable Barry Jenkins (a black man) who hasn’t done a damn noteworthy thing since, winning Best Picture in 2016 over La La Land as a reaction to Trump’s election.

In the following years we’ve had Nomadland – a story starring the insufferable Frances McDormand about the wandering underclass in America that somehow manages to celebrate the corporate behemoth Amazon, winning Best Picture and Best Director because it was directed by an Asian woman, Chloe Zhao.

Then we had the embarrassingly bad CODA win because it was directed by a woman, Sian Hader, and was about deaf people. This was followed by the egregiously overhyped Everything Everywhere All at Once, which won because it was about an Asian family and was co-directed by an Asian man. Quality, talent, craftsmanship and skill be damned…diversity for the win!!

As for the details of Chibber’s article, what infuriated me about it was that it acts like the insanity and inanity of the ‘Diversity Era’ only now has become obvious, and that it was impossible to recognize while it was ongoing.

Chibber opens his piece writing, “Hollywood has its eras, often apparent only in retrospect. Think back several years: Do you remember packed theaters giving Black-power salutes at screenings of “Black Panther”? Do you remember when an all-female version of “Ghostbusters” was treated as a pioneering development? Do you remember when the writer of a “Star Wars” film described the Empire as a “white supremacist (human) organization”

My question is…why on earth would anyone listen to a writer like Chibber who was completely blind to what was occurring for the last 8 years WHILE IT WAS ACTUALLY OCCURING. Contrary to what Chibber thinks, eras are not only apparent in retrospect. I am not a genius by any stretch, but apparently, I am extraordinarily good at my job…you know how I know that…BECAUSE I WAS AWARE OF THE ERA AS IT WAS HAPPENING! Unlike Mr. Chibber.

Chibber goes on to describe the Hollywood formula during the ‘Diversity Era’ as being “the same old thing, but with a bold and visionary new twist: fewer white guys.”

I wrote that exact thing over and over while it was actually happening over the past 8 years and I lost jobs, clients and friends because of it. Telling the truth in hindsight takes no courage. Doing it while the battle rages, takes not only a keen eye and perception but gigantic balls of steel. Mine are apparently the size of fucking Jupiter while Mr. Chibber is a eunuch.

Chibber then writes of the ‘Diversity Era’ and its excesses that “The moment is easier to see now that it has ebbed.”

Bullshit. The moment was glaringly obvious when it was happening but as Mr. Chibber and his ilk in the establishment media proved over and over again that it is difficult to see things clearly when your livelihood depends on you not seeing it. To quote Orwell, “to see what is in front of one’s nose needs a struggle”. Well, Chibber and his pampered set are incapable of struggle, while I was born to thrive in it.

The funniest thing Chibber writes is an admission of something I have been writing about so often even I am tired of hearing myself. Chibber writes in regards to the end of the ‘Diversity Era’, “At least we no longer have to pretend to like something because it has the right politics, or because the people most vocally against it are Nazis.”

So just as I wrote for these long 8 years, critics, pundits and creators were pretending to like things simply because they had the “proper” politics and because they hated the people who disliked those projects. You think I’d be more comfortable being right considering it happens so often.

The movie studios, particularly Disney, literally turned that formula of having the “right” politics and the “right” enemies of those politics into their business model.

Amazon has done the same thing, just look at the catastrophe that is the Rings of Power series with its diverse, and dreadful, cast, and how Amazon uses the Disney model of making all criticism of their projects into claims of racism and sexism.

I have to admit, I have found Hollywood’s insatiable appetite for wokeness, political correctness and diversity uber alles over these last 8 years to be extremely depressing.

Cinema and television have never been at such a low point creatively in my lifetime, and it is all because of the woke, PC, diversity and inclusion agenda which rules our current era and cares not a bit about quality, but only about signaling virtue and having the proper politics.

I hope cinema as an artform can make a comeback in the coming years and decades, but I’m not optimistic. The signs all point to movies going the way of music…in other words, losing ever more artistry, creativity and cultural power through corporate and creative malfeasance.

As for Mr. Chibber and his article…it is the height of irony that a “person of color” like Mr. Chibber, who got the ‘Diversity Era’ of Hollywood completely and utterly wrong while it was occurring, is now hired to write an article about it for the lofty New York Times, while I, a brutish white man who was 1000% correct in every way about Hollywood’s ‘Diversity Era’ from the jump, can’t even get a respectful comment in the comment section on an op-ed published by the fierce gatekeepers at the Old Grey Lady.

It seems Mr. Chibber’s insights on the excesses of the ‘Diversity Era’ forgot to mention the fact that he’s one of the big beneficiaries of it, as he’s proven through his ignorance of, and blindness to, the ‘Diversity Era’ that he is just another mid-wit DEI hire who in a saner, less hysterical time, never would’ve been chosen to write for the New York Times because he brings zero insight to the topic and is intellectually incapable of producing even one original thought.

Don’t kid yourself, Hollywood’s ‘Diversity Era’ isn’t over by a long shot. And even if the hysteria is ebbing a bit, that doesn’t mean the damage done to the art of cinema, and the business of entertainment over the last decade isn’t indelible and won’t have long term consequences. It will…and not for the better, no matter what Mr. Chibber and his kind may claim to think.

©2024

Megalopolis: A Review - A Mega Mess

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. This is a truly, truly awful movie in every single way. Poorly written, directed, acted and shot. It deserves zero stars but I gave it one star out of respect for Francis Ford Coppola and his stellar work in the 70s.

My favorite baseball player when I was a kid was Tom Seaver. Seaver was a pitcher for the New York Mets and for some reason, I just attached myself to his stardom when I was very young. I even had a tiny #41 Mets jersey and uniform that I wore every year for Halloween, even after it stopped fitting.

The Mets traded Tom Terrific in 1977 and I was a heartbroken and homeless baseball fan until I quickly latched onto the irascible Thurman Munson and the Yankees – which only led to its own heartbreak down the road…but that’s a story for another day.

The reason I bring up Seaver is that I always loved the guy, even after his Hall of Fame playing career came to an end. He was a phenomenal pitcher, but he was also a great guy and a class act.

So in my teens, when Seaver was forty-years-old, I made a pilgrimage to see him pitch in Fenway Park for the Chicago White Sox against the Boston Red Sox on July 30th, 1985. I assumed this would be my last chance to see him pitch live, and I was right.

Seaver was well past his prime and couldn’t throw his fastball with the savage velocity he used to, but he was still a master craftsman and could pitch his ass off. On this night he called on all his experience and mastery and pitched an absolute gem, throwing a complete game, 7-5 victory…the 299th win of his career. It was a joy to behold.

I thought of the old war horse Tom Seaver conjuring up some late career magic when I sat down to watch Megalopolis (now available to rent on VOD for $20), the new film from iconic, Academy Award winning auteur Francis Ford Coppola, who is now 85 years-old and well past his prime. But I hoped, like Seaver, Coppola would recapture some of that old magic just one more time.

Megalopolis, which is written and directed by Coppola, is a science fiction fable that chronicles the personal, political and cultural quest for power, purpose and meaning in an alternative, 21st-century, New York City named New Rome.

The film is an epic inspired by Greek and Roman classics, Roman history, and Shakespeare, and it is an outrageously ambitious and audacious cinematic venture.

I desperately wanted to like this movie, and desperately wanted it to work and I desperately wanted it to be good. Unfortunately, Megalopolis is a catastrophically, disastrously bad movie that doesn’t work in any way at all.

The film follows the story of Cesar Catalina, yes – that is his real name, a genius architect blessed with the ability to stop time. What does Mr. Catalina do with that ability? Nothing really.

Catalina is in a power struggle against Mayor Franklyn Cicero, and banking tycoon Hamilton Crassus, as well as both of their extended families.

He’s also in a tenuous and very shallow relationship with tv presenter and social climber Wow Platinum, yes – that is her real name, and also gets into a Romeo and Juliet type situation with the Mayor’s daughter, Julia.

Through all this Cesar Catalina is trying to rebuild New Rome into a utopia that will endure well beyond his and his direct descendant’s lifetimes and be a shining city on a hill through the ages.

If that plot and character description sounds like a lot, that’s because it is…and frankly, that’s not even the half of it.

The problems with Megalopolis are legion – pardon the pun. Coppola famously financed the film himself, all $130 million of it, and it’s easy to see why as no studio executive with half a brain in his head and any semblance of a survival instinct would attach themselves to this convoluted and incoherent mess of a movie.

Let’s start at the beginning. The casting for this movie is so egregiously awful that it beggars belief.

Adam Driver, or as I call him – the modern-day Elliot Gould (in case you’re wondering…that’s not a compliment), is the darling of the auteur sect at the moment, but he is unquestionably an atrocious actor and an even worse movie star, so his being cast as the lead Cesar Catalina is a major error.

Driver is an irredeemably impotent actor devoid of even a minimal amount of power, presence or gravitas, so he is incapable of carrying a gargantuan film of this magnitude.

Catalina is supposed to be this object of desire oozing with sex appeal and magnetism, but Driver is a doughy doofus and is so repellent as to be the walking embodiment of anti-sexual attraction.

Catalina is also supposed to be a genius, but Driver is a dim-witted, dead-eyed dullard who has no light in his eyes and comes across as a dumbass and dope, meathead and mope on-screen, which only makes his performance all the more infuriatingly flaccid.

In addition to the abysmal Driver, is the equally awful Shia LaBeouf, who is consistently terrible at everything he does.

LaBeouf plays Clodio, Cesar’s jealous cousin, and he does all the usual hackneyed, ham-fisted histrionics you’d expect from a minimally talented actor trying too hard to show everyone he’s acting.

The worst performance in the film, and that is saying something, comes from Nathalie Emmanuel, who plays Julia Cicero. Emmanuel is a beautiful woman but she is such a lifeless and wooden actor that you’d be better served casting a cigar store wooden Indian than her. Emmanuel’s dismal line readings are so devoid of life I felt like I was watching her narrate her own autopsy.

The rest of the cast, which include Aubrey Plaza, Laurence Fishburne, Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman, are no walk in the park either. The main problem with the acting is that the performances are all over the place tonally. It’s like watching ten different actors working in ten different films all spliced together randomly. It’s bizarre.

The blame for the epic failure of the epic Megalopolis falls squarely on Francis Ford Coppola as he’s the one who cast these incompetent snores in the first place, and then failed to direct them adequately to present a unified tone.

I also blame Coppola for the film’s uninspired and amateurish cinematography. Scenes are consistently poorly designed, blocked and framed. The visual effects, the sets and the costumes all look unconscionably cheap and tawdry. Which begs the question…where did that $130 million go?

The theatricality of the film, in its writing, staging, acting, set design and costumes, doesn’t seem avant-garde but accidental, like a way to cut corners with unfinished ideas and unpolished set ups.

The script is an unmitigated disaster, like a glimpse into the mind of a narcissistic, drunk, manic depressive mad man having a break down while strapped to a chair in front of Fox News.

There’s a plethora of inane B-story lines about a virginal pop singer named Vesta Sweetwater, and yes that’s her real name, and a dangerously malfunctioning Soviet satellite falling to earth, and a populist politician’s quest for power and on and on and none of them mean much of anything in the big picture or come to any dramatically satisfying conclusion.

The film is just Coppola saying the world is a mess and only he understands it and only he can fix it. The problem with this is that the animating philosophy of the film is so trite as to be ludicrous.

As are the film’s heavy-handed and extraordinarily vacuous politics. For example, there’s actually a sign held up at a populist rally that says “Make New Rome Great Again”. Subtle.

Francis Ford Coppola has given us some of the very greatest films ever made, The Godfather I and II, The Conversation and Apocalypse Now. But he hasn’t made a half way decent film, or been even remotely relevant as a filmmaker or artist, in over thirty years. In other words, he not only can’t throw his fastball anymore, he can barely throw a ball anymore.

It pained me to watch the mega-mess of Megalopolis because Coppola, like Scorsese and Kurosawa and Kubrick, is such a cornerstone to my love of cinema. But the cold and very hard reality is that Megalopolis is a film made by a man who shouldn’t be making films anymore.

Coppola no longer has the effortless talent, craft and skill he displayed during his heyday in the 1970’s. He is a man with lots of ideas but without the ability to convey them cinematically in a coherent and competent way. That is heart breaking for fans of cinema, like myself, and no doubt for Coppola, who still has a lot to say but is unable to adequately say it.

I wish Megalopolis was Coppola as Tom Seaver battling Red Sox batters for nine strong innings to get his 299th win. But it isn’t. It is Coppola as Seaver, a good man and once great pitcher, having to suffer the heartbreak and indignity of quitting his post-playing broadcasting job because he was suffering from dementia.

In this respect Megalopolis isn’t just a bad film, it is a gut-wrenching tragedy. Poorly considered, poorly crafted and poorly executed in every single way, it is better not that you don’t ever watch Megalopolis, but that you entirely forget it ever existed. That’s what I hope to do.

©2024

Conclave: A Review - Committing a Cinematic Cardinal Sin

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. A well-crafted and well-acted film that ultimately condemns itself to hell with an inexcusable plot twist that is so inane as to be infuriating.

Conclave, directed by Edward Berger and written by Peter Straughan (adapted from Robert Harris’ book of the same name), tells the story of Cardinal Lawrence, a man struggling with his faith who must navigate palace intrigue in the Vatican as the College of Cardinals assembles to elect a new pope.

On the surface, Conclave has a lot going for it. For example, it stars a cavalcade of top-notch actors, with Ralph Fiennes as Cardinal Lawrence, Stanley Tucci as Cardinal Bellini, John Lithgow as Cardinal Tremblay and Isabella Rossellini as Sister Agnes among the cast.

In addition, it is directed by Edward Berger, whose last film, All Quiet on the Western Front (2022), was a phenomenal, Academy Award nominated piece of work, my favorite of that year because it was so beautifully shot and masterfully executed.

On a personal note, as a Catholic myself (I’m not a good one…but I definitely am one) who has visited the Vatican on numerous occasions, I find the subject matter of a conclave in the wake of a Pope’s death, and the pomp and circumstance and politicization and jockeying for positioning that takes place, to be extraordinarily compelling.

And speaking of politics, in the wake of the US presidential election, Conclave is perfectly positioned to have something interesting to say about elections and liberals versus conservatives and the power of convictions and possibilities of backlash.

This is all to say that Conclave, which was released in the U.S. on October 25th and is still in theatres, had me in the palm of its hand even before I sat down in the theatre to watch it.

And yet…it failed to capitalize on all of its advantages and, in fact, alienated me in such a profound way with an excruciatingly egregious and inane plot twist, which I found to be a mortal moviemaking sin and entirely unforgivable.

In order to avoid spoilers, I will not reveal the specifics of the plot twist but will only say that it occurs in the final ten minutes or so of the film and is so contrived, bizarre, atrocious and appalling, and is such a grievous dramatic error, and so narratively unsound, that it ruined everything good about the film that led up to it and completely scuttled the good ship Conclave.

But besides that…how was the play Mrs. Lincoln? Truthfully, it was pretty good.

The film is well shot by cinematographer Stephane Fontaine, who uses a soft light and wonderful composition to often times create scenes reminiscent of Caravaggio’s great works.

Fontaine is aided by the spectacular work of the set and costume designers who masterfully recreate the distinct look and feel of the Vatican and the Cardinals’ outfits.

In addition, the entire cast all do tremendous work.

Ralph Fiennes in particular is outstanding. His Cardinal Lawrence is the Dean of the College of Cardinals and must wrangle the Cardinals to come together to vote for a pope and make sure everything is on the up and up…and it is never quite clear who the good guys are and who the bad guys are.

Fiennes is a supremely gifted technical actor whose skill is as good as anyone working today, and he brings all of those skills to bear as Cardinal Lawrence, a man who is struggling with his faith and his self.

An Oscar nomination, and even a win, could and should be in Fiennes future for his work in Conclave.

The supporting cast are also excellent.

Stanley Tucci is as reliable an actor as there is and he brings a subtle power to portrayal of liberal Cardinal Bellini that is enjoyable to behold. Tucci expertly embodies the illiberal liberal who is enthralled by himself more than humanity.

John Lithgow’s Cardinal Tremblay is a character that in lesser hands would’ve been forgettable, but here, Lithgow never breaks and lets the audience off the hook, so even after the film has ended, you’re still wondering if he’s a mistreated martyr or an exquisite liar.

And Isabella Rossellini has a small role as Sister Agnes, but every time she is on screen she crackles with an incandescent light and life that is undeniable.

But despite all of the magnificent artistry on display in the form of the acting, cinematography and costumes and set, Conclave commits too egregious a sin to ever be forgiven.

That sin, which is not venial sin but a mortal one, is the cheap, absurd and unearned plot twist that turns a compelling Catholic mystery and thriller into a pandering and pathetic cinematic exercise that feels like it deceived and betrayed you and stole two hours of your life.

For Catholics, Conclave will hold some appeal because it is a look behind the curtain of something familiar but still mysterious, namely the inner working of the Vatican and the conclave. In this way the film is compelling for Catholics…until the plot twist…which not just many, but I would say most, Catholics will find at best annoying, and at most infuriating (I’m in the infuriating camp).

Non-Catholics will find the majority of the film impenetrable for its disorienting maze of Catholic-ness. For example, I’m not even sure I can ask my podcast partner Barry, who is not Catholic, to watch this movie because he’s not going to know, or care, about all the Vatican and Catholic stuff that made at least the premise of the film interesting to me.

Regardless of all that, the bottom line is that I simply cannot, and will not, recommend Conclave to readers because the plot twist near the end eviscerates any artistic good the film achieved which led up to it.

If you’re interested in watching a challenging yet entertaining piece of Vatican/Pope artistry, I recommend you go back and watch The Young Pope (2014) series on HBO starring Jude Law. That overlooked, off-beat, exquisitely avant-garde series is very insightful and spiritually invigorating.

And if you’re just looking for a great story of Catholicism and Catholic priests, I highly recommend you check out Xavier Beavois’ 2010 film Of Gods and Men. It is a extraordinarily moving and spiritually insightful piece of work.

Both The Young Pope and Of Gods and Men are everything Conclave should be but ultimately isn’t. Go watch them, and skip Conclave…I certainly wish I had.

©2024